Gloom hangs in the air,
A lot too, lately.
Pain becomes almost cosy,
Even more so these days.
Dawn tells of my failed yesterdays
because mornings drag in bitterness,
cold and a crispy taste
and my emasculate will,
almost overwhelmed, summons it.
Yet with every dawn
A promise of the end of now,
Of the start of a tomorrow.
As dawn tells of my fizzled past,
I see in your innocence, an assurance for me
Igniting the flame
Of my extinguished inclination and
Dusk reminds me of you.