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Starting, and ending my day in darkness..
It is the season of abeyant hours seen...
When the wakeful moments are few,
And far between...

It is a shallow stream of consciousness
That supports the dreamscape hold....
It walks in silence, yet standing bold..
It's touches the bitter cold..

The sun will cast it's warmth in distance
Beyond this land, it rises on milky shores
With brilliance so grand..

Do we trade the time and place to feel it's
Warmth and grace, when tomorrow is merely
What is faced.....then vanish without a trace...

I feel the waneing of life's desires, it becomes
Like smoke to fire, drifting in the air around.. 
The tumbling to the ground, making very little
Sound...

Melancholy days has no gifted phase, it leaves
A twisted maze...where sun sets, and moonlight
Raise...
Cast off the sorrows, with gratitude for life, in the
Bitter Sweet of srife...

Walk solid in the change, so light becomes within
My range....
Dark or light, will somehow reunite... Remember 
To keep it with loving sight...
When day or night, has lost it's might..
Only then will harsh moments cease 
It's fight..







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Harsh Moments Cease