Old song for a new moon

On the way of my soul he came forth
from elsewhere, from the pavement, God
the heavy evening with its stars and loam
was blazing on the streets and he remained unknown

Inside the street lights with an ashen smell
cat’s eyes would flickered on my way
and heavy steps onto the road I laid 
and I would whistle so I would not wail

I still believed that the soft worms
will not breed in my hollow orbs 
and neither in my unpresented smile 
and I still thought I, maybe, did not die

On the way of my soul, it came forth
from elsewhere, from the pavement, God
but he remained unknown, and carelessly 
he carried on along whilst whistling.