Distant sun, where have you gone? I remember the dying light you gently exhaled in that violent wait for dawn, and your falling haze chanted in lamentation. Dispiritedness swarms my blood as I anchor my trepidation in your exile, come from the loss of breath and born for this misery, I tend to the fragile horizon who begs for rescue from an insatiable twilight.
The delicate nature of your transcendence fades in the decaying shadows, surging in the forgotten records of those blazing streams. And this is where I permit myself to exist, a purgatory of waiting in this loathsome brume.