Into the dark
I rode in broad daylight,
never regretting wild days
when dragons roared with fire
and the air tasted untamed herbs.

Now I sip at sunsets
and drive my furniture mad,
I cry out at tribal fringes
with a voice bleached
by the rays of my days.

I drift endlessly into the do that
and drink my regrets with ease,
I bring onomatopoetic order
into the coming of more sleep
and fall abruptly into relieve.