The twine sides of the Golden Threads
shimmers above the inky abyss.
Raining tears of pure starlight
baptise me with your grace.
Wash away my iniquities,
calm my passions that
burn with the lust of
a thousands suns,
and replace them
with the tender
lullaby of the
moons.

Allow
me to be born
again. Allow me to
wake in a sea of clouds,
painted by the daily promise
of many hues. Let me be able to taste
the sweetness that grows, away from any
lemons that dares to moan, and break the shackles.

Allow me to drift.