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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354525" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Fountain of Blood</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354525" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A fountain's pulsing sobs--like this my blood<br>Measures its flowing, so it sometimes seems.<br>I hear a gentle murmur as it streams;<br>Where the wound lies I've never understood.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354525" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Like water meadows, boulevards are flooded.<br>Cobblestones, crisscrossed by scarlet rills,<br>Are islands; creatures come and drink their fill.<br>Nothing in nature now remains unblooded.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354525" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I used to hope that wine could bring me ease,<br>Could lull asleep my deeply gnawing mind.<br>I was a fool: the senses clear with wine.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=354525" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I looked to Love to cure my old disease.<br>Love led me to a thicket of IVs<br>Where bristling needles thirsted for each vein.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Charles+Baudelaire">Charles Baudelaire</a></strong></div>

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