It gnaws at you
with hungry maw – but subtly,
inconsistently,
the monster of darkness, gray and gloom:
a loneliness drawing from light
and doom,
and neither sun nor blue-skied days
can end the monster’s incessant reign;
upon the throne of endless caves
it marks your heart
to eternal grave.
And finally, when quits the day,
the night approaches
and wins the fray.
But, luck will have your soul that hour
in rainbow reflected, sunlit showers,
and in your sorrow and your spite
your eyes, now blinded,
by emerging light,
you will see the pages writ
and find your path in sustaining it.