The deep breaths fill my lungs,
a story silent, a grief unsung.
The chill runs strong,
a river deep with sirens song;
I look above and only shadows stare back,
the darkness is familiar comfort.
I wish upon an unseen star,
but nothing lasts but ink and tar.
A flicker, a flash,
and slow burning flame.
A tune in the air,
a single sustained note of true shade,
where is the chord,
Am I late or last?
My fate or past?
The note fades,