you formed in the dark, from the ashes and mist of a young world
and that’s where you’ve lamented ever since
always on the verge, but never quite able to make it to daybreak
and now, I feel you on the horizon
I see you in the deep violet of pines against the sky
And hear you in the breathy wind, something violent and distant
I know it’s not right to look for you in dark, but I know it’s not right to pretend you haven’t always been here
Why is that you always lurk in the most eery places?