Why then these dark days — now. The past
wore a whiter gown, the firm ground spoke
in softer tones then, hushed hues of no dawn
when once I dared to tread her path
towards a garden, safe — and secret.
Those days were not as these days are —
fragments of a past
becoming a future
unwanted.
Silence. Darkness. Dreams.
I crave winter. Snorting snow. Dreaming
— Manual Override: power
off still
of virtues lost
among
men
evanescent
.