I wander through the afternoon mostly in search for night
Dispelled, compelled in search of passion alike
Thus bodies of lost ghosts wander along
Nothing of its own becomes a fire, emitting a grand wonder
Without a body—wasted fast asleep in a deep dream.
Behold I turn away into a lonely ghost never tame,
Alive and well yet splintered into depths of outer space
Across the thresholds between afternoon and night,
Until nothing seems the same but a dream of grandeur,
Furthermore, I wander into unending fires of compassion
Until the moon projects a dream long ago
Taking hold of internal rays of grace the rhythms engulf me,
Drowning away sorrows within and outwards
Sedation follows some sort of course untamed.
