AN ODE TO THE VIRTUOUS DARKNESS

I am he who walks amongst ancient ruins and sifts the ashes whilst the present burns.

I am he whose iron façade belies an aged heart and tired mind.

I am he who dreams of the sun but finds only desert.

I am he who sees only despair in Truth and emptiness in Hope.

I am reason written small upon a page too burnt to read.

I am the numbed indifference upon which you rest your dreams.

I am the breach in castle walls that house the last embers of life’s desires.

I am he who flees to virtuous darkness to sleep, perchance to trust myself to live again.

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