Meandering in longing
Enamored and encupped by awe
The throngs of no belonging
Emotions’ breadth in crypts of flaw

Supposedly a brief respite
Stretched to a night unending
Monotony and doldrums sit
In magick’s-wove pretending

Surrendered unto nothing new
Defender of the hidden true
I bide aside, in wait of you
In wait of fateful mending

I had a calling, when out there
I saw the light and rose, aware
But only now, as I’m ensnared
Do I see Night’s ascending

So grant me form to see in dim lit solitude
And grant me grace, to waste no time in interlude
I wish no more to stray amiss in destitude
And only then shall I find right, my wronging