I’m built for darkness, built for silent hours –
for battered thoughts and fevered windowpanes
that rattle through the gloom like Marley’s chains,
and bind my brain with harsh, necrotic flowers.
In dreams, I rap on Walter’s hollow towers:
Tell them I came! No audience yet deigns
to carve a dusky notice – what remains
is floating hazard tape and midnight showers.
No light illumes these pools crepuscular
No light or license have I now to drive
No light can bend these rules, so muscular
No light will urge this creaking frame to strive.
I’m built for darkness, built for silent night.