Sorry tonight,
the road was long and dark
And I could not see my friend,
or at least her face, in my mind’s eye.
Sorry, I guess, for being numb and devoid,
and yet my apology is a feeling,
thus I hope yet.

It’s been so long that I do not mind lying,
though by truth I had better yet set that down,
for I can’t keep track of myself, a mess I’ve already become.

Yet things are not so bad, not so barren as the tough vine,
I wake up every morning and, bless fate, I have a means to follow, that means within my heart. Were that means ever to die, may my heart beat again that I may reform some new means, one away from fate, one made within the realm of honesty, where my agency resides.