In the quest for shudders I was as the absence

melted in my hand

As clear as my gleaming sorrow



A spectral fascination

For irony to serve

are the glorious those who triumph

in a kingdom of eternity?

...a castle of sand

whose roof has sheltered my

I sense "the absence of triumph and lust

abruptly rising to cover the glory in sand"



A whore gave birth to the flies

...who flew away with my beauty

A virgin gave birth to my masks



I simulate the absence

"To enter a kingdom of

flesh - a ghastly worn shadow

A fiery picture of poet in hel"



Forlorn I was as poets should be

I am as chosen as the weaver himself.