I see no daylight
in this morning,
I see no sparkle
on these stars,
where thee my poets
be the abyss
I used to wander;
after hours
my words, my eyes,
my falls above,
my rise by tone;
on weather's light
my boys of loving
endless poetry
why die by eve
without a fight;
I'd love my renaissance
my fooled blossoms,
my one believer
of this fate--
a man undressed
by all importance;
be birthed by death
not by my faith;
for what I'm loved
not what I love;
and what I've lived
was never life;
come seek my heart,
be back this dawn
where for you're lost,
but me--your home.
