The stars move around
The moon
As if a clock

The stars are ghosts
In the sky
Ghosts in robes
Of golden chaff
Blown across the hazy night

The head of darkness is
The sky
And each star is an eye
With these eyes I see the
Despair
With the eyes I weep
I solemnly swear

The light exists as if it shares
The stage with the ghosts
In the neglected theatre
Of the abandoned city

Where only the passionless woman
As a sea mercilessly
Pulled by moonlight
Resides in the city of shadows

Where only the meanderer travels
Through it’s empty mind
Rooms filled with broken clocks
And books in murdered languages

Past manors
Whose chandeliers
Scoff at him
And whose ovens would pile their ash on him
Where doors lie closed
And windows conceal the photos of the past

Abandoned Past
as if light
Rests on the strings of time

In large parks
Spring weeps and willows grow
Winter smiles and bluebells sprout

Past homeless houses
Through a dark city
Where the night is crowned
And stars thrive

And he leaves the heartless city
into the soulless sea