- Lotus of the Eternal Night -

Is time a line, with beginning and end;
or is it round, only subtle of bend?
Is Cosmos a tomb with no meaning thereof,
or Dream-World Ballet with the Goddess of Love?

Shimmering rainbow mist wings of the night,
fluttering currents of lonely starlight,
drift in the swirl of celestial Rose;
there in the blossom She waits in repose

Twelve are the regions of cosmos around
a destiny waiting - to which we are bound;
Twelve are the labors through which we must pass -
striving, enduring, and falling, at last

Ever it seems that the Darkness is deep,
that sorrow and instinct are longing for sleep,
yet music plays hushed in the night cold and long -
so dance in the tomb, to the tune of Her Song...