[ref 1:]
I was wandering in the woods of dawn
As I flew in the face of logic
The night before
The mourning after

[ref 2:]
Gifted with such wonderful wounds
Caress the salty waters
The light in the dead of the day
Whispers gently; birds of prey

Attack in vain
Decay
And
Sustain
Release this greater art of wrath

Early spring: Silence is forced to leave, uncovering immature thoughts.
Are they yet to be unleashed?
Orion rules the sky once more, orbiting the polar star.
What weak companion that I am to him.
Has winter wiped the forsaken thought, whose twitching I believe to feel?
No longer shall it dwell within.
Early spring is on my mind, throughout of another kind.
Yet, as I bethink again, I recognise him very well.

[ref 1, ref 2]