I walked in a desert.

And I cried,

"Ah, God, take me from this place!"

A voice said, "It is no desert."

I cried, "Well, But -

The sand, the heat, the vacant horizon."

A voice said, "It is no desert."

Stephen Crane
Lines, XLII

There was a man who lived a life of fire.

Even upon the fabric of time,

Where purple becomes orange

And orange purple,

This life glowed,

A dire red stain, indelible;

Yet when he was dead,

He saw that he had not lived.

Stephen Crane
Lines, LXII

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