Even in Slumber

Clark Ashton Smith

This separation cleaveth to the core. . . .
Even in slumber I am fated
To seek thee in vast throngs and dreamlands desolated—
And find thee nevermore.

Bewildering phantoms rise between, and ways
Where demons claim their olden debt;
The rote of sullen streets and streams; the spume and fret
Of planet-blinding sprays.

Printed from: www.eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/168
Printed on: November 18, 2017