The light that wakes me,
Taunts with florid horns,
Dreams of childlike innocence,
But loveless is the dawn –

Night’s avowed refugees,
Washed up shadows spurn,
Tides possessing rightly,
These affections unreturned.

A play of lies engrossing,
Thieves that knowest me not,
Consorts of the emptiness,
The loves that life forgot.

Solemnity is not my maker,
Etching malevolent words –
My underwriter is hope,
Reborn with the day’s accords.