We who run

from the presence of the sun

By the voided bitter gleam

chasing darkness like a dream

All with weary tasks fordone

'scape the serpents tounge



To catch the shadow,

let the substance fall

Like the sun's bright beam

entangled in melancholia

Entangled in the black roars

of an image's stream



Put the wretch that lies in woe

in remembrance of a shroud

The match agreed

with flames admired



Now I find hideousness in mind

Shall I disturb this hallowed house?

I have been sent with dusk before

to sweep the dust behind the door