[incredibly neat handwriting]

[inviolentgrief.livejournal.com]

"The night is still, the streets are quiet,
In this house lived my love;
She left the town long before,
Yet her house is still standing in the same place.
There I also see a man standing and staring into the heavens,
Wringing his hands in violent grief.
I shudder when I behold his face;
The moon reveals to me my own likeness.
You Doppelgänger, you pale companion!
Why do you mimic my lovesickness,
That tormented me at this place
For so many nights in the past?"

Does anyone here recognize this poem?

-Black Falcon