There is nothing,
I thought,
But empty horizons.

The open arms of solitude,
Have wrapped me in their embrace,
And the gentle lips of eternity,
Linger to kiss my face,
The soft breath of silence,
Brushes against my cheek,
Still the dark chill of fatigue,
Refuses to make me weak.

But in the embrace of solitude,
No warmth is to be found,
And the kisses of eternity,
Just keep my soul tied down,
And the brush of silence,
Does little to bring me peace,
Until fatigue's hand touches me,
And allows me to sleep.

And her hand touched mine,
And dragged me to a new life,
Where flames sing and dance.