Its Getting Dark
Its getting dark
Perhaps its just me
Yet never to ask what?
Can I wonder what be?
How silence can be astounding
Loud enough for impurity
Echoes never once resounding
Of whence do silence yields tranquility?
I often wonder do I not?
Cruising through time, to hear , to see
Returning moments never to stop
Yet denying is never a plea
Shall I yield, shall I render?
To the world’s ever familiar familiarity?
I did dream or did I ponder?
Or did I just excel in ever obscurity?
Some time to never tell apart
Letting ever to never be free
Its getting dark
Is it me?
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