• The anonymous book I write, my love,
    My sweet obsession, my long lonely life,
    My way of expressing dreams from above,
    A concoction of trials, struggles and strife.

    I write to relieve my worrying thoughts…
    …The midnight black feather and snow sky scarf…
    But all these ideas, I dream but nought…
    …A quick rising storm and burning fire staff…

    …I saw black wings rise high above his back,
    Stained with the bitter blood of his torment…
    …From pure hatred, their foes commence attack…
    …Raging fire breaks past his secret’s extent…


    All this and more is stirring through my mind;
    I fear the day I must leave all behind…