In the apple of my home
I find hope in the nectar
that sustains my life,
It warms me up
and sends me merrily on.
Against that warmth,
I find my soul.
That cold cold thing
that does naught
but absorb all that
it is not.
I will teach it to live,
and once it has come out
of its deathly cave
I will play with it
until
I surprise a smile
from its foggy gloom.
It shall show me
its tearful joy
and I will want
no more
from this world,
I will sleep.