I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Incrustations of mud and dew Resins dripped in the stone. I discerned a man, alone, Frightened eyes, red of pain.
I was walking in the pale wintry sun Through the substrates of the wind Mosaics of clouds like raging herds. I discerned a crow, fierce, scanning the horizon…
… vitreous eyes… and silver tears… notes of a new pentagram, white pages ready to shelter obscure mysteries.
I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Incrustations of mud and dew Resins dripped in the stone. I discerned a man, alone, Frightened eyes, red of pain.
These are the days of the after and behind, The days of the present, that rolls by slow and full.
I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Mosaics of clouds like raging herds. I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Vitreous eyes and silver tears.