Into the depths
The darkest of places.
The darkest of hours.
The sun refuses to rise,
for the night has been unkind.
This vile city is washed
in film and filthy street light.
The sun is ashamed
to illuminate the darkest of corners,
the most resilient of sins.
It would, for self-pity,
leave us to fend for ourselves
against the endless,
dawnless - night
with nothing more than
seedy streetlight to guide us,
and no more common sense than
that which we can find in
our complete naivete,
to defend ourselves with.
And so we are forgotten.
And we roam so blindly,
and so embittered towards the sun,
that is shall fear to ever
break bread with the empty night,
which is now our existence, again.
We are the shadows.