Drag the dead leaves within, around
Today when the Hermit goes to work
Faces the music of oblivion
Sets the existence on fire
Breaches chaos
Whistles
Carries the dead leaves within, around
Falls into a chasm…of clay
And out comes dust
And a new world thus made
Of dead leaves, clay and fire
The Hermit goes to slumber
When wakes, sees a world of nothingness
Therein dwell his two souls, the one asleep and the one in a dream
Along with dead leaves.
Silent Observer 