Only so much can come into this old cave.
This bag of darkness writing poems
in the shadows.
There are so many bats I can’t count them.
I watch them go into the night
and wonder why they don’t love the sun?
Are they trying to capture the elusive stars?
I could tell them it’s hopeless,
but then, why should they listen
to someone without wings?
Someone that talks to the walls
and believes the echoes of his voice
is someone else.
Someday I will leave the cave.
I will give up my shadows.
I will stop envying the bats
and walk into the darkness.
And in the morning the sun
will find my remains,
and take me up into its heart,
in all the light of its beauty,
and the bats will forget me,
and I will forget the night.