I will write the poem of poems
    I will sing the song of songs
    I will dance the dance of dances
    I will play the sound of sounds
    But sounds are never half so fair
    As when whole music turns to pure air
    And the universe dies of excellence.

    Poem, song, dance and sound
    Fall from their heavenly towers.
    Joys walk no longer down the blue world's shore.
    All fear another wind, another thunder:
    Then one more voice
    Snuffs all I feel in one gust.

    And I go forth with no more wine and no more stars
    And no more poems and no more sounds
    And no perfumes and no senses:
    While God sings by himself in acres of night
    And walls fall down,
    And I am free.

Emily Dickinson's axiom
Emily Dickinson's Axiom...