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?