Within men
there lies a deep crevasse
blacker than black
it is hidden but not forgotten
you step in
among the black
a shrine of rot
once stiff and steady
the guardian here
can no longer mend
he is one man enclosed
in ragged rice paper walls
governing the atmosphere

that is sprinkled with false stars
the guardian though frail
keeps the light yet faint...alive
without one acknowledgment
of presence
he says:
*“one wrapped in contract
shall not be cursed
the light awaits to be nurtured
come now
stay and rest
for this will mend
and fill this black crevasse”