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I am dark in the midst of gales - flame of god

falling with goan into abyss - like deaf bell of north

I am in blackness of mountains exciting crimson of aurora

spark of mine pains, star of my prostration.

I am comets' king - spirit sedition on my own

I am dust of desert in scat pyramid

I am thunderbolt of storms - but calmer than cenotaph

In my graves I hide death and disgust

I - abyss of rainbows - but I would be crying over my self

like cold wind on limp canes of lake

I am shine of volcano - but in march valleys

I am walking like burial, with monotony and mourning