Sonnet 9

If there's no chance to stare inside four walls,
Beside a storm you'll hear a mourning sound;
Agnostic view is suffering that falls
From all illusions to the starving ground.
The foils of time are strangled with thin rope
And sky converts to cosmos for one row -
The cycle of grey life with tears and hope
Which pales in glowing ash for us to throw.
I lurk in what they used to search and dive;
For years since then I gently broke the chains
Of mind and soul, but where shall I survive
In all the sorrow from their bloodless veins?
Don't drop the meaning of yourself, because
The pain will strike you with those harmful claws.