"Dark is the tomb, yet holdeth but one fear
In all its chill and silent majesty,
Lest I should lie divorced from all held dear
An exile yet—and ever still to be.
I never trod upon a foreign shore
But in my heart a flitting shade would rise
To whisper ‘Haste, else thou return no more,
Who could not rest save under native skies.’"
— Dora Shorter
* Non-LEGO: Collar, Hands (modified)