I, who drink from this stained chalice of life,
a vessel more than this mere mortal can bear;
stand at these misty crossroads awaiting
that carriage from heaven's domain.
To speed my withered spirit into the solitude
of a silent retreat; an abode fit for circumspection.
There, the passage of aeons will become
just a day, in an eternity of soul-searching wandering.
And the vagaries of a life unfulfilled can find
solace, in the realisation of the hidden world.
