Witnessing the red sun crumble
and fall; he knew beyond doubt
that his life would forever halt.
Yet as this beauty dispersed
to the affliction of tones,
nothing ... none
died or bore ...
the scars of a happy life before.
And he wondered the meaning of this,
in Owl's hours he would await her kiss,
the Infernal Lady of Sleep,
to dream and solve Life's riddles.
Alas, a hero - genius he is not,
only a crazed wanderer
with a heart of stone ... yet
with a love of shivering and gold.
Underneath the cosmic rain
he lays without a thought,
to feel how life
matters not.