I stole a shadow from the slaughter-house
And I bite from it the pain of undoing
Proceeding through circles, to forgetting.

They vibrate – the crumbling spheres
And the life’s log falls,
Slowly, get born, children already stained.

I sew into my skin this shadow that’s caught between worlds
Trapped in the eternal rigor mortis
Seeming to try to fool its transcendence,

Closer and closer, there’s little time left and I shall have my soul,
Just one more stitch and I’m finished,
But look...morning is here again?!