We who run
from the presence of the sun
By the voided bitter gleam
chasing darkness like a dream
All with weary tasks fordone
scape the serpents tounge
To catch the shadow,
let the substance fall
Like the sun`s bright beam
entagled in melancholy
Entagled in the black roars
of an image`s stream
Put the wretch that lies in woe
in rememberance of a shroud
The match agreed
with flames admired
Now I find hideousness in mind
Shall I disturb this hallowed house?
I have been sent with dusk before
to sweep the dust behind the door