I am in the wandering hour
Closed up to myself
Within myself:

I struggle with death
While alive as I write from
The light of a shadow,
    In words I sculpture
A destroyed consciousness
Full of memory
Inventing the moment.

Saint of my struggles
Full full
The pain remains
From the days last breath,
   A form of light
Cowering beneath a burnt moon
    I embrace the fear
And fall beneath the emotional
Cracks,
   Nocturnally inclined
I am the light over lonely
Streets at home in the shadows,
    
Everything falls apart
When i speak to you its
like colliding
In a spiral,
Extinguished speech
I fumble back
In retreat to my world,
Inside my surrounded throne
I write the struggle
And I know I am.....