Warrior Of Amaranth Nights

i would sink if the moon left these shores!   picture of myself,
bright floods!   seeking shadowed roads.  Of yellow and green
cellophane hearts – into the willows of an old courtyard.
   O my dying quiet hearts of arts and wordsof black dog,
brown shepherd hungry formasters -bitter peaches upon the ground :  
while sulfur and evil drown in shallow swims.
Oh but Lord!   through amaranths and Sahara bluesas fire and creepers
seep through the widow’s cage!    i walked Guianan without shoes
and flew throughthe ducal window on such a moonlight as the blessed bindweed. 
Across ages of time and hordes cross our agedEurope.
Every soul crosses the moors -all warriors!