I is a me, inside of thee,
For a fusion of time and tea,

Silence the night, like bringers of dawn,
Form all the beauty inside a white room,


I called to the owls,
They said tis' was mine,


I call to the woods,
They left it unheard,

I'm not your's cries the wolf-man,
Breathing his cordial gross, differences,

Seashells are darker,
When days are brighter,
Like the shadows of monks,

In Sanctuary's of storms,
There I find,
All that is mine