Shadow men--
the silent,
   secret ones --
stand soulless
by the sea.
Day has vanished
into the grey twilight.
Trees, towering sentinels,
guard against the night.
The strong pursue,
the weak will cry...
dart and turn,
twist and grimace.
(Sight and sound betrayed/
instinct forgotten
or mislaid.)
The shadow men
watch the hunt:
no reaction, nor reward.
Night, like the First
     Darkness,
consumes all --
soul and soulless --
by the sea,
the silent, secret sea.

Night brought
dreams--
shadow spectres
beneath the silver
   moon.
Durvishes danced,
breathless,
to the melancholy music
of the spheres.
Guarded memories
lurked just beyond
   the door.
Murky colors
began to fade
into the creeping
     fog...
points of light --
there, but not there --
illuminated
the mind's  strange
     path...
from twilight to dawn --
to waking hours
when dreams,
   themselves,
sought sleep.

Babies are sleeping
in silver cradles;
cats roam with a
certain aimlessness
that only the night
   can detect.
Mist mingles
with the undulating
     smoke
of dying fires,
with my warm breath
caught in the darkness
     of the air --
languid voices whisper
and I remember
the color of your eyes.

Dawn approached
encroaching on our
   world of night,
that dreamy realm
we claimed as ours
during the dark, spinning
     moments,
when we could neither
speak nor think...
That world of night,
where we dwelt
in our secret place.

Bronze roses
and dried leaves...
love lies adust
in this melancholy place.

Faint rays of light
through broken windows,
disturb the jealous darkness.

Pale figures glide
down gloomy hallways --
faint whisperings are heard.

Broken dreams: faded tapestries
of what was and will
never be again.

Mirrors reflect a sad masque:
what is lost to the day.
Bronze roses
and dried leaves.

Here in this somber place
the air is rare
and full of sighs.

Today I am tired,
I linger languidly,
listening to the wind.
The Autumn leaves
will fall so soon,
a bittersweet beauty.
The season of
   our decay.
The wind in the trees
beckons me,
but I pause and sigh.
Today I am tired,
a dreamer walking through the hours.

A roar
in our ears,
as if the void
     suddenly filled --
a maelstrom
in our minds:
spinning, swirling...
pulling us close
     and down.
Eyes blur;
breath comes quick
     and hard.
We are caught,
     as always
      (forever?),
in the trap
we crave, we love.