The day may lie
Bitter daggers of fault,
Icy in cruel candor,
While the night,
Whose voice unsolicited,
Whispers facts
With holy virtue.
Rattled with paradox.
Always confide in the thief
Never finding refuge in the saint.
Men despair,
Bleak in fear,
For the the world appears a foe.
In truth,
Desire bests intellect.
I wanted the sun,
When better had it set.