The brightened stars are fading once again
Behind uncertain curtains of my mind
Night's selfish pull will justify the end
Compel us to resist and then resign
Ourselves to simple silence for three days
While winter winds blow harsh and bitter tests
Against our stubborn pride lean our cliches
Some sentimental lie "it's for the best"
Your hands mirror my own in dire need
To write and redefine the author's prime
My hopeful, faithful thoughts will not concede
To fortune's perfidious deal with time
I leave my writer's pen untouched, alone
You still have not noticed -- I am gone
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