A COOL SENSE OF TRANQUILITY calms my troubled spirit.
I emerge slowly from deeply entrenched nightmares and proceed into gentle reverie, into quiet wakefulness. Youthful ideals, embodied in vaporous form on the street below, are a black reminiscence. They are certain to return as a want, an untold want, having neither name nor substance but providing a niggling dig that skewers my soul. I shut out the noise in my head: irrational thought, excessive thinking. I'm through with the insanity of earlier times.
I see but darkly my amorphous reflection and sense it is a phantom, not the real me. From behind scudding clouds appears an awakened, gracious moon. She illumes my way, showing inner turmoil in a new light.
This black shadow of the walking dead has disappeared.