Poetry

The stars still cast their subtle glow
Through the greyish black churchyards that we know;
Next morning’s fate lies unknown
Before the dawn.

The clouds still drift just as before;
The canaries still chirp outside my door,
Yet suddenly appears the taste of nothing.

The sky is indigo and the blue jay sings;
The children catch fireflies by their wings
Though I am somber.

Throughout the universe no pleasure can exist;
Mirth turned her face at me,
Ever since you fled.