Sheathed in tears,
Some edges slice...

Sometimes I sing...
My lungs agonizing for breath...

[A pale ode from my teenage years to Moorcock's...
A thousand worlds have I seen...

In the flicker of the light
And the crackle of the flame...

Looking passed the bursting white symbols
Of my unexpressed feeling...

[An ode to the Goddodin as inspired by the Welsh...
Well, my friend, the time has come...

The swaying forms of flame birthed
Spectators watch eagerly as do I...

In darkening corridors of a once light mind
The demons of loneliness wreak painful havoc...

The shady glade of red, red roses
And soft cool grasses walled by dryadic oaks...

I drift wearily in soft flame,
Spectres flitting on the walls...

You resemble nothing
more than a...

Wash winter waves,
Bathe my aged aching flesh...