Soliloquy in D-Minor
Oh, this setting sun of darkness,
words once belonging now rest
in silence;    words once hovering
now wingless – scorned
like scorched earth at nighttime:
no shadows form from words
fallen flat; sinking 
sinking 
with every revolution the pen sharpens 
only to break
the mind of the sharpener. 
Oh, the gravitas of light. 
The gravity of darkness.
In Voces Intimae I seek the snare, 
and the rising sun
of virtue.