The streets are all deserted, the star-light glimmers bleak,
This night has been perverted by a love grown faint and weak.
On trails I wander softly and await the joy I’m due
And though it haunts me awfully: I will not come home to you.
The moon is high and hated while our sorrow paints the night,
The future I’ve created now a monstrous thing of fright.
Past minutes stretch to hours, and thinner yet to years
Through the dimness that devours I see lifetimes fade to tears.
All the love I have not given, the lies I have not told,
Are nails too quickly driven through the marrow of my soul.
Now these shadows have grown stronger for the light I left with you,
And though the night grows longer I know dawn is coming too.