Descending from the precipice with the rising sun.
My curiosity compels me to ask the question,
With the returning of the morning light
Where did the cloud of hopelessness,
that had gripped my heart so tight, vanish to?
It has now dissipated as the fog, not a trace left behind
Yet will it condense once again as the day grows dim?
What elemental aspect of the coming of nightfall, nurtures this darkness
Is the simple fear of its return,
That is responsible for its nightly appearance?
Or is it always there?
Existing as a star,
Invisible in the light of day,
Yet its position fixed in the heavens
Or as the sun,
Obscured from mortal eyes,
By impenetrable storm clouds.
As the clouds are moisture coalesced,
Is my mood simply my aloneness?
Staggered by the improbable weight of tears
I send these words out into the world
that by their sharing, the load might be lightened.