[ref 1:]
I was wandering in the woods of dawn
As I flew in the face of logic
The night before
The mourning
after
[ref 2:]
Gifted with such wonderful wounds
Caress the salty waters
The light in the dead of the day
Whispers
gently; birds of prey
Attack in vain
Decay
And
Sustain
Release this greater art of wrath
Early spring: Silence
is forced to leave, uncovering immature thoughts.
Are they yet to be unleashed?
Orion rules the sky once more, orbiting the polar
star.
What weak companion that I am to him.
Has winter wiped the forsaken thought, whose twitching I believe to feel?
No longer
shall it dwell within.
Early spring is on my mind, throughout of another kind.
Yet, as I bethink again, I recognise him very
well.
[ref 1, ref 2]
