Inside this nonexistence I know very clearly The directions, all the points Of every potential quarter
I forge my wisdom Into an arc surrounding all I forge my heartbeat To a dome all heavens wide
I know the sun and the moon The names of stars Their movement and purpose I mark the place of polaris on these impossible heights
I forge the horizons I craft them for flowing blood I forge the places Precise for sivler, precise for gold
In solitude, I measure out The range of barren lands I drain unto the nothingness The intersecting curves I look at all directions I look at one clear point I see them all come together I see into the heart
This here is my place, it is my work I was made the maker of the sky
I am the maker of the sky I am the forger of the arc