Until sent stepping down the pedals—scalar,My feet were not sure of their footing hereBut then, at once, my most pressing fearBecame naught but a small

Reading Life through the Greatest of Books
Until sent stepping down the pedals—scalar,My feet were not sure of their footing hereBut then, at once, my most pressing fearBecame naught but a small
My heart is a violin With strings played to the breaking, And wound so tight I have no breath Since the hour of waking. Still