A COOL SENSE OF TRANQUILITY CALMS MY TROUBLED SPIRIT.
I emerge slowly from a deeply entrenched nightmare and proceed into quiet wakefulness and gentle reverie. I peer out my window. Youthful ideals, embodied in vaporous form on the street below, are a black reminiscence of former hopes and desires that have fallen off me like a worn suit of clothes. I shut out the insistent voices that beg me return to comfortable and safe imprisonment of heart, mind, soul.
I leave my room and go outside. I see but darkly my amorphous shadow -- it is a phantom, not the real me. From behind scudding clouds emerges an awakened moon that illumes my way and shows inner turmoil in a light that is new.
A shadow of the risen dead, cast upon the asphalt by a gracious moon, shall be my companion . . .