At some point during the turn of the world
I lost my voice, the breath of fire that I had inhaled
and exhaled as naturally as the beating of my mercurial
heart. Once I would call to the winds of future and smile at
their response. But somehow I forgot how to sing the
song, the song that I taught myself in the dark, in the void,
in the infinite pressure of my own unquiet mind. Bravery,
ambition, defiance, Promethean will: all these, they were
my voice, my song. But now lost somewhere, along the
revolutions of the world, along the incessant pacing of life.

M.M.