My cup is parched, long emptied
Of meaningful intent, of will it is vacant
And the force of life is all atrophied
Seized by limbs of a sloth virulent.

Am exiled to dwell in the body’s cave,
A think tenuous line of mind only is
The remaining veil covering body’s shame
Against all the emerging inadequacies.

Come O Flame into this cave of dreams,
Flood the spaces with Thy radiant streams.