(I)

I stand at the shore once again, where gore of girth

spit together, dark stream flows and dark fogs chant—

How I wish to flick the stars! The bar stretches behind enchanted

silver spoon, shining bright through prison bars.

Yet, it's only the start of long evermore.

(II)

It's black, it's blank— staring hard in the ghastly souls,

"Oh! Forlorn ruins! You're another lost in grim."

As fast the whips come, the wind takes away slow burns—

I gasp and run until the long run makes it marked,

Do you fear being caught in the eyes?

(III)

Time grew in the branch of shadows,

As free it sounds, as free it bounced

In the world of black and lost, the light makes it cold and frost—

And I, being crushed and churned— give away

to the roar of hurricanes.

(IV)

I go round and round, around rivers and seas

Wrong fellow, for I was a novice rover!

The grip is too hard— cynical— to break apart,

"Let me see through plain and glee!"

As white she scorned, my knees gave in.

(V)

"Look, look— there you go, don't be too hard— knuckles no white—"

At that single glance, I tell you— she made me,

She strife them out, the pearls of white wine— and I knew,

It was meant to be, she faints with whirlwind dust—

I draped my shawl around the fogs.

    
        I dared not to sing the same song

but hymns of dark-light echoes.

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