Ballad of Last Light


43

The sun is tangled
In my prayers for sunset
It doesn’t matter than
I’m at the goldenth hour of my life
I’ve been changed to a bird

So many times, it’s difficult
To count, was I a Phoenix?
Or was I a Dragon?
I fell in Love with Asian
A long time ago, lifetimes ago

Terrified by the clash
Of wind and grass
I became an ethereal thing
I commit daily suicide
As a human being

And walk as a spiritual creature
In literature, the sun is tangled
In my silver hair
Between sky and water
I’ll leave my songs

Pet the Serpent of knowledge
In darkness, I’ll set myself a home
Pulling a flower out of moss
I’m a hung man’s last shivering
The sun is tangled at my feet
In my invocation for dawn.