Something precious wanders lost
In the shrouded interior castle
Or distant foggy landscapes.
On the way back from Dante’s lair
I drifted away, missed the drawbridge.
Now I am both seeker and sought,
It and not-it, not fully who.
I beseech the castle Lord,
Accept my white martyrdom,
Restore our connection, infuse me
With a drip line of your passion.
Make it a flood, find my veins
And hook me up. Without you
I need life support, if I can locate
Myself to save.