Poem Reviews: Life IX (By: Emily Dickinson)

The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain;
And then those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of Its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.



Our hearth is against the duality pleasure/suffering, it's incomprehensible that the pleasure is born from the tree of pain, only with the eternal sleep, the pleasure is at the net of the suffering.