In his heart there was something that glowed like a gypsy's fire seen across the hills and mists of night, burning in a wild land.
These are the gems of the human soul, the rubies and pearls of a lovesick eye, the countless gold of the aching heart, the martyr's groan, and the lovers' sigh.
I want to reach for something precious, to make whatever sacrifice that requires.
It's all so vague and grandiose.
Purity of heart.
Poetry and daydreams.
It not a corporal dream of deeds or position or possessions. But a dream of the soul. Of the Spirit.
![Wild Animus: A Novel](http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&Format=_SL160_&ASIN=B000HWYQX8&tag=dalrbook-20)
![](http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=dalrbook-20&l=bil&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B000HWYQX8)
![The Ram to Wild Animus: The Ram](http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&Format=_SL160_&ASIN=B000OSIDG6&tag=dalrbook-20)
![](http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=dalrbook-20&l=bil&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B000OSIDG6)
- Wild Animus, by Rich Shapero
These are the gems of the human soul, the rubies and pearls of a lovesick eye, the countless gold of the aching heart, the martyr's groan, and the lovers' sigh.
I want to reach for something precious, to make whatever sacrifice that requires.
It's all so vague and grandiose.
Purity of heart.
Poetry and daydreams.
It not a corporal dream of deeds or position or possessions. But a dream of the soul. Of the Spirit.
- Wild Animus, by Rich Shapero
Comments
Post a Comment