Discrete Infinity

What if the coordinates of reason misperceive chance encounters as portending deeper meaning? I have in mind the modern-day academic, and as if a clash of first- and third-person perspectives.

Pale cast-away of moon's dim hollow,

Somewhere in clouds on a starry night,

Reveals a riddle of leaves below,

To find a sleepless window's side.

Whose eyes thus turn to timeless dark,

Midst where its solitary glow -

On what wondrous fate had embarked?

What divine musings to bestow?

Why then undead ages cohere,

And the dead figurines when spake...

In ghastly ways, to sleepy ears,

In dreamy depths such visions wake!

Pale cast-away o' moon's dim hollow,

Borne by winds to what fateless fate,

Where the blinded gazes follow;

Or bleary bits of windows wait.