How far is drowning in mist path?
My bleeding feet get not in touch with land
My falling outsketch is clear against the mass
Of both snow stream and coarse molls – say my friends
I’m going under swiftly as my dream
Retreats from mind which takes on other things
By strange addiction or of other whim
It looks for space – though I’ve had never wings
I strain to overwhelm the world
Succeeded just in murdering myself
When nowhere going I nobody meet
And on my way the rocks are grinning wicked
Or how dared I to wake in whirling pond
Or, in the center of forbidden?
My mind has currently no thoughts-they’ve perished
And nothing what’s in me can be forgiven.