If I could escape
mental chains
rigid with rust
Discover elements
which rise and combust
Only then could I honour
Bowie the man
but he is a blackstar
and I simply am
All that I have
Is my black lump of coal
To burn for the one
who ignites the soul
Until fire turns to ashes
and, ashes to dust
and dust feeds a field
where new life
breaks thought’s crust