I believe these pale bones are mine And all this dust over that grave Today should float and twist and whirl Along the smoke of my loose wraith In every grief-stricken blues I feel the woe of that old scene When lying dead under their feet I cheered out loud at my new Self! Futile puzzles I leave behind Hastin my skin to peel & grind Before thy essence vanishes And torn out my soul to pieces What I hear now, what I can see Is part of a greater degree And as I'm crawling back to start I design and write my own Light