the glare didn't make it to my eyes,
perhaps not anymore till this hour.
darkness has swathed this cold
corpse of throbbing heart's
longed-for forlorn
freedom from
freezing

numbness of the night, of all that is
human left in me, that has left me,
that has forsaken me. that
it could have been fate is
nothing but a question of
faith; now a question of
happiness. passing.
so this day.

so am i.