I cannot sleep, O' moon your shine so unique
Wind blows in silent stealth bending leaves
what a gesture to my eyes, I follow ocean breezes
Opening my thought, I experience new things.
My sketch book lies puzzled, its face stares at me
rolling is the pencil, what is majestic art?
The wind blows harder, stroking the rock
What an alchemistic notion foreseen in such symbiotes.
Wire to wire the darkness penetrates
Stars are immune to the nature of vision
Deep in the universe I know there are prisms
Give me the gallant truth O' supreme Eros
Just a name allegorical with meager nomenclature
This loneliness of mind I so welcome coveted
Sand breaches my sight, but I don’t want it
The rock, wind bathing in forms of self
The dark, speculates and shares it's wealth
The stars of the distant prism, tales of death
Apollonian steps thus create my breath.
Why speak in such riddles, metamorphic in spite
Light within the tunnel of the ocean is gray
I lay by my soul, Eurydice can you spare me
The pain and anguish of my thoughts so mannish
Banished by Eros, such a cleaver name
My heart pains with sickness, I forsake the shame
That butterfly on my sketchbook spreads it's dust
Camouflaged with potent white brush, I smile
Where have you been in the darkness tonight?
Your flight amazes me, even more your creation
My book is not worthy of your angelic gyration
Travel to your fated mantle of disguised Penelope
Lack of sleep brings madness, I welcome the sanity
The book closes, Sleep has gotten the best of me
In my book lies the caterpillar dawned by my dormancy.