He closes his eyes, the gateway
Beyond the realm of human sight.
Poised above, a lone wolf howls
Toward the dark side of the moon,
In awe of its celestial shadow.
This is the world of his creation,
The residue of past light.
Here, he's but a desperate onlooker
In search of the final clue;
An unlocked emotion,
Meaning in harmless play,
Shadows of doubt
In the eyes of the storm,
Masking the thoughts of men.
He cowers in uncertainty,
And awaits the dawn of dreams.