It's on the cold days in December,
I truly see what life can be, or cannot be.
With my two aging eyes I gaze silently
Through this kaleidoscope we so often neglect.
For nobody wants to truly see in color
When black and white seems so simple in the morning.
It is in the dusk of our inevitable defeat of ambition
That we come to reveal our true mentalities.
With time playing the reaper in our minds,
We are quick to guide the razor on our friends,
Only in the wake of our actions do we grasp regret.
Is it any question why man is so alone?
Skipping stones in the tides of intellectuality,
I only ponder the true meaning of death, life, chance.
If the moon were to shine in the absence of darkness,
I wonder where my sun might rise tomorrow.
