Be my lovely fair, shining glory share.

Listless tomorrow cries like a songbird.

Upon a threshold of suns, I am bare.

Tilt my mind up, carrying backward.



One way is a bridge of hardened rivers,

And another is ivory clockwork.

Time is a saint, and loneliness shivers.

The lucid calling is fog where you lurk.



Blessed the, for the great secret garden

Is my haven from thorns and burrows.

Buried deep in the crevices of men,

It screams a black that breaks like a damp rose.



If the light leads me out of solitude,

I’m the empty heart that you fill with gratitude.