![]() ![]() Leave us! Leave us – so it is said to the mob! Leave us – so it is said from the shadow! Among the music of the many, was not the greatest sound the silence of the few? All has been sundered by an immutable null. In silence, then, the few have observed the candor and the light, and these they have cast aside. Truth, they have never loved but hopefulness and wishfulness, they have coveted truthfully. For, the many have resigned themselves to casuistry. The few have become as the shadow, full of sorrow. Leave us! Leave us – so it is said to the shadow! Leave us – so it is said from the mob, the miasma of the blind, the gloomy and the Gray! How long has the shadow against the night been the greater black? How few have sought the shadow and found it lurking, lifelike against the lack. Through every tempest and every locus calls the shadow into the night. Loreless, the miasma of the mind is the nature of the night, of the Gray, of the worldly despair into which the Black descends. Lo the shadow of the world and the worldly below. ![]() But, alas, the Black, it is a lonely illumination. In the guise of a shadow, it has ventured without its privacy to offer itself to the world. Long has it wore at the center of thought as zenith, as nadir. The Black has ever fostered balance in the bower of the mind. ![]()
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