as i gradually prepare for the night that inevitably comes
in its retreat
amidst heaven's fog of war:
taints the darkness
with spilt blood
by the million revolutions of our lives
that inevitably ends;
at sembrano's shoulder
with the sun's waning interest.
deep in thought, he felt he needed to be in love once more. since the day he parted with his first, rounding to a year to the day few days past he crept under his blanket, thinking, that for numerous reasons he can still bear twice to fall. elaborating on it on bed, he must have felt sandman's whisper... and to sacrifice the life of a free spirit and bind himself in an emotional typhoon. for as he knows himself quite well, expressions of the self give him serious rashes and extreme vertigo in vulnerability.
overwhelmed in dreams hearing the harried waves of the sea carry the love away...