The blackness is sipping from the sky
Like a thousand invisible arrows
Shooting
Shooting
Slow and definite.
To the bottom of sight.
I don't have a shield.
Nor have I an armor.
So
I watch them fall, I
Let them perforate
Every pore of mine,
They cheerily conquer everywhere
I see. They silently devour.
The blackness is a foe. An inevitable forthcoming festival.
I refuse to become his guest, I pledge to the
Bright but transient glee of day.