When the masquerade has run its course,
And the spirit disrobes from its garment of flesh,
Whither shall it wander?
Will it join in the dances of dreams
Oft admired, enthralling in slow moments of rest,
Eyelids growing heavier by the day
As the Goddess of the Shades
Encloses upon the heart,
Confounding equally in darkness?
I am led blind
From the Sanctuary of Veils,
Traversing flashes of light
Into the writhing touch of innumerable hands
Tossing violets in greeting at my passing-by:
Soft as snow, they swoop from the air,
Purple kisses raining welcome
Over the nakedness of the Self
Light as feathers, they hiss through the air,
Purple arrows volleying death
Into the remembrance of the "I"
Led blind to the borders of Shadow,
Subdued, shimmering away into darkness;
Borne thither, immolated, in the petals of innumerable hands,
Thousand-armed graveyard of a lotus among ashes
Carried in the swirling blood of a dream;
Washed up in the still waters of Mnemosyne,
No "known" sans "unknown"
In the Garden of Tranquility,
But for the charade of ghosts
False-faced and false-hearted,
The truly departed
Under the curse
Of perpetual Incohesiveness.