Forgive the spirit of indolence
which paints the path so hollow.
Lady in white – scolding lips
in the faceless canvas of warm avow.
The silence of the raving moon
immures not the sickness of the incentive charm.
Although the nature of this being is to crawl
through the labyrinths of swelling flagstones,
its serpentine eyes still divine
through the veil of fancy mockery.
The Nocturnal Versifier 