Somewhere twixt the amorous night
And the damp grey dawn
I see the twilight desert
Of my abandoned soul.
Even the storm torn mountains
Know more warmth than
Might remain within that barren land.

Kin to the wraiths that howl
The wooded darkness
Flow my sometimes dreams
Floating on the turgid river
Of mortal lethargy
Like a dead leaf
That twists and spins
Beyond the surer grasp
Of passive oaken roots.

Through the dark mists
The several diamond towers
Shine, but razor sharp
And cruelly cold.
There they linger till the tides of time
Shall thickly swirl
A thousand fathoms deeper
Than their shining barbs.

Lulled by the hissing pines
And nudged by dim memories
Of duty, hunger, pain
Like a raft of logs
On the swift spring rivers.

Beauty tantalises ceaseless, merciless
Oh fickle mistress of my mind
Poisoned by the very feast
That gorged my hungry soul.

Prideless, aimless chartered "Celeste"
The pack ice crushes, maims
But does not kill.
A mountain of black sins
Precarious above the sheep tracks
Highway to my fate.


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Out of the Dark © copyright 2004 Afon Claerwen page added 1 April 2004