White light, I float in limbo
Chasing Ghosts in a basement
Never finding
In wintersun
The last sun the myopic shall see
The Crows I cannot see encircling
Across dark water
It knell’s a parting day
A colour, colour out of space
A symmetry, solitaire unravelling
Knowing now only of the fury of sound
A voice in the shadows
Cold, cold morning
Endless climb
Finally blind
Talking phrases
I am blind, a gauntlet of shadows
Can this be sure?
As shameful as it seems.

IVS Nov 2013

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