Posing thoughtfully at the cliffs edge
Longing for life's release
Against the scornful gaze of the sun
In soft chaos and charming havoc
Dying is much too easy.

Under a glass bell
sighing cause I like the sound
everywhere is light refracted
feelings are fickle sprites
under the scattered lights
loving yesterday
living today
yearning for the comfort of night.

Can you weave some words for me
on the worn out loom
vying for the perfect texture
enter the unknown stranger
recklessly whistling by the tomb

Know the friendliness of time
never speak of what is stolen
every fit of fury
every soft stroke and broken line.