I rouse unfading ashes of a forlorn past:

The labyrinth of hopes might be fathomed at last.

My spirit's laden with anchors of dreams

Below Delphian skies of restless silken gleams.

I'm pricked by the needle of my distress,

Sensual waves of lost love sting and caress

The silver eyes that glare no more:

The days thus fade like tales of lore.

In this vacuum a storm of tears,

Pale correlate of hidden fears

Scars the drained mirror soul,

The well you would cajole.

And sleep's restrain foments

A sigh's rhythmic descents.

Delirious light,

Subsiding night.

Haze withers eyes

The struggle dies.