That shameful hour fast approaches, and I with it reveal.
Caught in the back and cramped and foggy, this life to me does so appeal.
In those close quarters the truth is laden – baring all before the world.
In that darkest of night’s hours, it is the only thing I wish to hold.
All told it’s not the first or last, perhaps forever in that hour I’ll remain.
Forever caught between the dying ember and my idea of the flame.
Before the sun re-fires its oven, when it’s last wave of warmth has gone away.
I sit and stare into that darkness, and find who else and what to blame.
The game is played, the moves are made, the board is spread with the result.
I’m trapped again with one last hope, and if that corner I do make my home, again t’will be my fault.
Where can I go, what can I say, what words will be believed today?
What magic spell will this night cast, how now will it my lips make fast?
Thank god the glimmer makes its faint approach,
again I live, again the topic I won’t have to broach.
How does that star save us from shameful blunder, night after night when all seems like it’s lost.
How does it know to throw its ray up yonder, like smoke, so we can ‘scape the angry host.
For those awake along my own sad person, you are my friends, you understand me well.
We go by day, we pass the hours, but only in that darkest hour do we truly dwell.
What secrets that stark light reveals, forever hide in shadows of the night.
No moon, in all its silvered glory, can show the truth of what we do so well to hide.
Again I sit with weapons strewn before me, waiting for that mournful chime again.
The bells too must be tired – weary of their never ending knell.
Almost like Sisyphus do I return here night after night, but who condemned me so?
What have I done but open my own heart, and leave it burning for that insatiable crow.
Again with bated breath I wait for that redemptive morning light.
Again no answers have revealed themselves, again I’m doomed to yet another darkest night.