"The road is constantly deedless
and yet there is nothing, not being done"

IS EVERYTHING then loss blind calling in the void and searches the word in vain the lost letters the road the erased track the present the lost past? PRAYER Now, that the night falls closing the eyes from the day and from heaven stores away the tender blue grant me, star which from the night lights up the blind eye more lucidity more sight. DESPAIR  DOESN’T bear fruit nor dream nor other life but what is useless and of no avail like the night born blind sees nothing but what the moon’s eye offers sometimes vague sometimes bright. CATHARSIS The mirroring ought to be unmirrored the word reworded. Depart from the road as far as the boundary of stillness where less is more and the word, as truth finds shelter, once again. BUT human kind being  restless and ignorant, seek in vain the well and the bed to where all the waters flow and the sand. REVERSIBLE is everything but where lies the verge who knows about the reversal the darkening the night? THEN FELL for days a darkness in which he tried in vain to perceive an image a face time. NIGHT black eye. Night trembling eye in colder cold. Night.