A paper boat that trembles
above deep waters...

Your winter gust is a firestorm
that burns the chambers of my heart...

Shards of shards
that split like dust in the corner...

Another tedious night has arrived
as I survived a new day...

I am voiceless
in your pioneering mind...

Let me be empty and still
but full of longing...

I let you, all leaves, fall.
I refill the cuts...

What do you want of me?
the ghost, the lone lover writing poetry...

Empty are the roads on the map
all the walks have been made in vain...

Muddied are the creeks,
no blue reflections...

Carved into me like I was of stone
thousand folds of faults and corrections...

All that was once meaningful
and destined, has lost all meaning...