The gloom of the morning
Colapses around him
As the night's remains
Fall into ashes,
The thunder laughs
In his direction,
And down on the ground
The cold rain crashes.
His hands tremble
With the fractions of power
That keep him alive in his words,
He crawls in the shadows,
His eyes but stardust,
His sobs like the song of the birds.
And he is afraid
Of the Sun and the Moon,
And of every single dawn,
And they do not hear him,
They do not know,
And into the darkness he's drawn.
Fear
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