The Quest -XVIII- The Adventurers

Spinning upon their central thirst like tops, They went the Negative Way towards the Dry; By empty caves beneath an empty sky They emptied out their memories like slops, Which made a foul marsh as they dried to death, Where monsters bred who forced them to forget The lovelies their consent avoided; yet, Still praising the Absurd with their last breath, They seeded out into their miracles: The images of each grotesque temptation Became some painter's happiest inspiration, And barren wives and burning virgins came To drink the pure cold water of their wells, And wish for beaux and children in their name.