On the Day. And someday.

these lonely nights pass by in faithful hours
progressing steadily into the dawn
if your heart could be as faithful as the night
the hours would not seem so very long

the ticking mocks the hollow in my chest
which beats along (although reluctantly)
for while my world in pieces seems to lie-
my heart, though broken, still insisting: Be!

the minutes pass, no mercy in that face
But pass they do, a simple sort of balm
that does not make the fever quit its place
but heals instead with slow and steady calm

So time will teach me not to have regrets
The sun will rise, and myself with it. Strong.