I start out with nothing
Round midnight whistle.
How I live night and die,
Born to sleep and grow.

The night pours images
And how I live my night
And beginning, my sun
Living ,grows to  death.

How sun grows and kills
A moon impaled to sky.
Images pour from a sky
From a sleep, by a night.

I grow death from birth.
My images grow a death.
Night, temporary death
Grows and is how I live.

How I live death grows,
As it grows to die night
To be image and to die
A thing, to die an image.