This darkening earth that weighs upon our mind;
this silent sky that sits upon our fate:
the door is closed, the world seems so unkind,
the evening comes too fast: the hour is late.

I look upon the hills enwrapped in mist
and ask when will this unseen fiend strike home
and if my dearest one remains unkissed
and when the path leads to the catacomb.

To stand and wait: to stay apart and weep
or laugh at the rare strangeness of it all,
as each day ends with an uncertain sleep
and sweetest breath preserves its rise and fall.

Yet spring shall come and clearer waters run:
new life shall rise blessed by an ageless sun.