the pale glass window
dusty with the passing days
reflects a shard of the sun's dust devils
and all i could hear was the small sounds
that creatures of the darkness made
as they thirsted

i walked in the grey dust
and the bitter taste of the miles of desert
was in my mind like tears
i walked on because i knew not what else to do
because the wind shifted the leaves
was it not faith in a madman's way
would it not suffice with the kindness of...
the wind shifted the leaves

the midnight flame flickers in the echoes of the cold winds
while i etched the papers ivory face with
all that which such as i could devise
and as i slipped into a fitful dream
the miles swept me onward
into the darkness
into the dark dreams that live there

the pale glass window
dusty with the passing days
reflects a shard of the sun's dust devils
and in that brief light
i saw a face
against the grand design
against the backdrop of years
but the dust swallowed it
like all my other dreams
and the dust devils are all that remain
my only companions
in the darkness