And I am held within psalmic Miserere of humanity.
I cry for the longing of fire - with pre-pacing melody.
I draw walls apart, towards crosses on rainbows.
- Oh, stream down over the abysmal whirlpools with the infinite luminosity.
Bring Your Love closer to the times. May it push the darkness asunder:
in temples of spring liberations, let there be no torment.

Sonnets, VI