Distant Promontory
The glimmering streets that burned dreams
I can’t grasp its greedy shade
The creep, the rage, and the imbibing crowd
Where do they sleep?
Mist thirsting upon bare and decency
And I refuse to stride with the walls of shame
Where is the promontory beyond this city?
An ecstatic land blowing warm pleasure
Where beneath is a pile of beautiful sunstone
Refracting the translucence of abundance and ebullience
Somewhat hues of the golden hour
Besides its spangled appearance
The independence of my mind
Where water whirls the echt-hands I chase
And love itself shall crash sweetly
Beyond the salty encounters I mourned
And the hymn of the birds
Would bewitch my barely living soul
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