Within again, once more to weep
With reclusivity in eye.
To flee these fodder for the lost
Of the unpermitted wise.

Steeped not in bitter falsehood,
Beguiled in ailing rhythms.
Wrought not in desperate sires,
Nor wailing by mere fathoms.

And of ineptitude
Self-seeming held,
In the shadow of captive space.
By the light, the dark is felled
When deft eyes reopen
In grace.