When he’s running so far and lone,
So far and lone is he that runs,
This swift pass that calls to him,
He’s silently bathing in a pool,
Somehow he brings another to an end,
The end of the darkness he follows,
His line to the way it issues forth,
The lasting words he echoes in air,
But somewhere into nothing is found
A skin that breathes deep in the dark,
Walking through the ages a road turned,
Running from nothing into nothing,
Sounds his muted voice into silence,
Brings again his world into foray,
In darkness, in silence, in solitude,
No one was there, the pass was there;
He’s slowly walking and lets go of it,
Once he kicks his feet he’ll live,
Once he lives he’s already in there,
The darkening pass is bidding him
An entrance into the foray to leave,
Another word continues, only silent.

Category:
Life, Nocturnal, Poetry, Works
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