I met reason in the morn;
He was perched on my windowsill, cold.
Precarious and unsure, a newborn;
Shed of all shrouds of hope.
I watched him long.
I watched, distraught.
Until the dew died in every leaf;
And his cries, I couldn’t brush off.
I let him in, with the sunlight.
Cold and anguished floors of the night,
Soon shivered with patches of life.
So did I as I left my tear behind.
All day long, a tussle-
Dread and reason – the yin and a yang.
All day long, a bustle –
Of creaking logic and a loud pang.
As light recedes to lonely stars,
And the night fondles the seen.
Anguish settles in my eyes,
As the dew on the leaf.
My lie is stranded on the windowsill,
I live my truth, here and now.
Tomorrow, I will let you in.
Tomorrow, we will dupe them all.