Once I wondered,
What is it like to know somewhere,
Other than this dark place.
And pondered :
What if life could shift its axis?
Finding myself up there,
Among the fog and clouds.
In a different air.
Where The Winter Wind,
Would blow and blow my hair.
What a scene!
Not as pleasing,
As the one of 1818.
But good enough,
Given what I've so far seen.
No stick will grace my right hand,
And I'll stand naked,
The wind upon my bare skin,
No thoughts out, no thoughts in,
Just me, the clouds, and the scene—
Of the highs and lows which through I've been.
But for now,
Let me hum with ʾĀmīn.
Not Amen ,
For the God I belive in,
Is the one and only.

Gravitational waves
Seem to wave all of my flaws away
As I gravitate
Towards the graceful end of the spectrum
I leave my persona amidst the stardust
Henceforth unfolds my consummate actualization

Hello, O Anima
Long time no see
I've Individuated, and enfolded you
You haven't, and can't
Thus will remain within me

Not two decades yet,  
since the sun spat me into its glare,  
and already my head betrays me—  
six black locks, once fierce,  
gone,  
gone gray,  
gray as ash,  
gray as a lie,  
gray as the sigh  
of a self I can’t defy.