A black feather dances its way to wooden floors br I am buried in my sheets and unwilling to acknowledge you br Stubborn Daemon, you both bring and maculate dreams of her br Her face is lost somewhere between lucid and wake br What good are hollowed prophecies? br No sustenance, and nothing to gain br Only a frantic assurance that I one day will meet- br Her. br In passing, a glimpse will sop a tear br And I will hold her hand br A crowded street br The busiest marketplace br A solitary trail br Her, deserving of all my infinite kisses br I am aware of your labor and order br Know that I will love and hate you until I am gone br But promise me, dark shadow, now perched on splintered rafter br That you will not cease to bring me madness br You bring hope, ardent hope.