To what embrace my love to sow?
To parrot not the past nor flood my spirit till swell?
The well I fathom too deep, too sharply tuned,
Roots like broken fingers grasping at hard toiling;
The beacon she dug through thy bones, heaving shivery dishonor.
Magical unicorn so waned hath wings afire,
Spire snapped from reality shall not burn thy tongue over.

The times ago which born twin shadows
Paved the altar for Love's resurrection;
Sustain thy heart to peaceful rise and sighings
Clutching hence, the spire renewed,
Enfolds thy dreams in raw earth and seed,
Newly potted, achings of heaven,
I await the rains and open my lifelines to the sun.