It’s the moments that are so full of emptiness
that bear the greatest weight,
that reach into the heart like a dagger
only to sever all that was ever good…
branding sorrow so deeply into the soul.

Where days of solace seem so few between
the months of waking hours,
where sleeping shadows walk again
into the nightmares without end.

When even summer feels like winter
with fireworks made of icicles,
that burst forth into the midnight
falling straight into the eye
to blind lifes’ sun.

Shades of gray make up the rainbows
claiming pots of golden dreams,
where too much rain has left but rust
beneath the thunder of dark omens.

These are the times when sorrows whisper
breathing hot upon the neck,
until the spirit’s all but worn…
these are the true st times of all,
these are the moments that live on…
that make us who we are.