Tonight the lines blur

two planes fight

to unite themselves

in a vagueness that is certain

but with the possibility

of a dream untrue.

As doubted as ghosts,

one haunts.

And as sinister as vampires,

the other feeds.

And as the epitome or all transitions

manifests itself in the sky,

the soul and the undead fight,

seek peace, find a birth

where planes are brought into a death.

Two embraced in content.

Two isolated as one.

December 2000