“How irreparably changed my life has become. It’s always the last day of summer and I’ve been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I’ll grant you I’ve had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they’re making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there’s almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door.” George Jung

Restlessness haemorrhages heftily at my kleptomania

It’s a sinner’s cud I chew, ruminating as I am, on insomnia

The world outside me sleeps, draped in a white winter blackness

The world beneath me lies placid, morbid in its sullen sadness

Twists of fate and drops of hate glisten in the silvery moonlight

The shadows mock my wide eyed glare, hiding sense from sight

A cry shatters the silence, a shriek only my ears can hear

A vessel runs aground; causality’s casual cadence in crescendo somewhere near

And so I stare, goon eyed and glaring, playing tag with the daring

Into a mist that engulfs my sanity, stabbing at my plexus with its swirl

Gnashing at my nerves, pampering my discord, twisting with its every curl

The witching hour is upon me now, and I’m held captive to its antagonism

Irate and innate she hammers vociferously away, deaf to dissent, deaf to cynicism

And so to fate I commit my plight, to the hope of a time when all is all right

Tis but hope so faint, so quaint, so lame, so cold on this vicious night.

I’m looking towards the fields of Eden- to the vast Savannah plains that I grew up on, in whose whispers lie my dreams, my soul, my very being. My Savannah plains across which I rode my horse into the cool wind, and the rising dawn. Far from humanity and the struggles of the jealous, the selfish, the decadent, far from the maddening crowds.

This is to going home again, to the place where we came from. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

I looked towards the fields of Eden

Towards the furrows of hope neatly plowed

To youth, meticulously sown into the thirsty soil

youth, born barren, innocent, coy like the day

tamed to love, tamed to the content of the self

Free of grass, free of the bottle,

liberated from junk food and materialism

sheltered from selfishness and envy and pride

And all manner of primordial vices and vexations

I looked towards the fields of Eden

To a dawn of peace, a rising amber

A higher consciousness

My idyllic wanderings, my unconquerable naivety