In the comfort of blackness,
Beneath a veil of wool,
And with eyes without duty,
The symphony of night fades away
Like limestone in fiery rain.

And as I fall into a sea of darkness,
My eyes, still without purpose,
Grace me with fantastic apparitions,
And I hear whispers that echo in the void.

And within my weightless head,
The tumultuous gears and cogs
Grind and turn with speeds unheard,
And in the clockwork, a single spark
Flies from the iron machinery.

The spark is an entity of many names.
It is often a bonfire where tales
Of phantasmagorical beings and
Phenomenal landscapes are told.

There are times, however, when the spark
Takes a different name:
Inferno, a terrible creature
That destroys all life it touches
And ravages Nature’s beauty.

It is a dark roulette at times,
And though I know I cannot revel
In evening’s dusk eternally,
I now dread the blackness,
For fear of Inferno’s wrath.