What silent place is this,
That grasps my heal, my ankle,
What onyx hand pulling me down,
With guileless solicitation causing me stay,
Vacant from your flower bloomed dress,
Denying purple,
Vacant from your scent,
Sparing me touch,
This black place without you,
Sunless and unblessed,
Void from fire as described,
What new purity do I sense,
Causing my sterile release from breath.