I swirl in lukewarm broth of nights’ dark stew
Whirling in thoughts of three
Two cherub souls in my third eye
One caged bird time has turned blue
My marrow wails an arcane plea
As I stir in this restless brew
Simmering ‘til that fateful day
When in their dreams I’ll slip away

I wrote this poem in the form of a 16th century Javanese Tengahan Wukir.