Battle Lights

Black days,

Yellow nights,

Conscious existence dark,

But bright in the un …

Once felt I had all the luck,

Before reality stole fun.

 

Morning greys,

Midnight lights,

In my heart I tuck,

Memories of the love we spun.

And as the gardener who’d never pluck

Before the ripe season has begun,

I’ll never say –

Never to afternoon delights.

 

© Heath Muchena, 2012

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