as grief gets lost
between strange voices
the night tempers the light
the soul does not to get used
to what determines
the real future

language without words
carves in pale cheeks
drifting away from beacons,
it indicates a death wish

it is the way of nature
which gnaws on the horizon,
extinguishing breathing fire;
the world is beset

if sadness hues my earth,
the way out soiled, exiled,
then i will only be loved
by the shadow