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The deep sacrosanct dejection,
In my dark majestic love.
A blackest sightless silence smites,
My so soft slothful screams.
Researching in nought-lands,
The gracious lost rays of moon.
And wending mourner,
The lightless endless aimless path.

With no truth and lie I think,
To my untruth and unreal exist.
With grief and tear and fear I sleep,
In a dreamlike bosom of who is away.
With wound and sword and blood I battle,
Inside of me against myself of dead.
With no and no and no and no and not,
I answer the life's uncaused questions.

Where is my lost ray?

Far away I know so far away in nought,
In void, in fiction, in delusion,
In portrait, in song, in poem, in mind.

Far away in me so far away in me.

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