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You were my death:
you I could hold,
when all fell away from me.—

Paul Celan


the days have gone down into permanent midnight
the days have gone down into night
how we have fallen from ourselves
the days have gone


I have never felt this alive

as I do in the waning your eyes 

nightworld of siphoning lights
this is the dark
the artificial lights of the nightcity
            steal the true light

this is darkness
this is fallen

the days have gone down into permanent midnight
the days have gone down
the days have gone
how we have fallen

I will reach for her


we have fallen


a trace the grey before dawn in the nowhere
you too,
you have to fight,
from here on out


the torn of truth deep inside madness 

the nightfires are burning in the skies
burning into the souls 

the faces are disappearing into the night
the faces are all that is left
I don’t want her face to go
It is all I have left when

her voice will linger; altered by the streaming artificial lights
both together, in conversation,
to the breaking of the dawnhour
fallen, the red of night darkness

after all hell breaks loose.


deep in the nighting, like our beginning,
it was strange, hollowed out, the night club
where you fell to me, a carefully affected despair,
with me.

I kiss your solemn ghost-eyes again and again,
the music—you
know: the invisible wave,
the inaudible one;—
it is the nothing, we cannot see, the obedient darkness. 


the city, of night
sometimes the betrayal in unknown passages 

if you caused my pain, I would remain faithful to you,
solemn ghost-eyes that drive my pain, I reach out
from nowhere to the place I find you.
to recover unawakened
as if you could still hear
as if I still loved you
I would bring you through 

the streets
the night
the last words
before all hell breaks loose 

I would bring you through



the soul is wired on the night amphetamines
until it burns itself out 

fading into you

burning into you

this is killing me 

for many years I’ve lost myself
for many years nothing came
for many years I’ve lost myself


all hell breaks loose
the nightworld is burning.



after all hell breaks loose
the One
the night


the nightworld flickers constantly reflected in her ghost-eyes
down eyes, into fallen
her eyes are falling

she feels so alive



the deafness will flood over me
like hard stones breaking at the innermost surface
of my nocturnal existence, the One

the night

a bridge crosses the innermost darkness
her ghost-eyes, into fallen 

she feels so alive 

after all hell breaks loose
I would bring you through





Copyright © 2002 D.E. Willer. All rights reserved.