The deeper I go
the darker the day,
blue turns to grey turns to black and
it's hard getting back.

I grab onto daylight which for now is the skylight
and the colour returns to my cheeks,
time speaks quietly to me, inaudibly,
I only see the light.

At the zenith, the nadir is clear to me,
each holds itself to a certainty
an effect which though true gets
lost on me,
I only see the light.

The deeper I sink and
the darker I think, I think
I think myself into a
quandary, in
silence the colours come back to me,
like troops on the long march to victory
and time chatters on quite
incessantly.