The dark blue of the fallen night holds me fast within its grip.
I move through the soup of twilight toward a high tower in the distance.
I’ve seen this tower before, many times in fact.
I know what awaits me there high above this place.
Into that recess so sacred I can but enter as a thief in the night.
I’ve come here an unworthy angel fallen from grace.
Here I do not belong yet there, within the spire overlooking the wastelands of my mind, There is my desire.
The soup of twilight envelopes me.
Between madness and this place are no borders.
I look again at the distant edifice.
It catches the only light left in the void and faintly calls me home.
A single window in the night sky and I am without a rope or ladder but swift of wing.
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