Half passed tomorrow
With little here to turn
Minutes and seconds forgotten
Where discarded letters still burn

Forgiven by only the sun
Who's harsh light has yet to come
With burning heat upon the neck
And a heavy burden upon these lungs

Breath in the air
To see the darker half
Born of trepid desires
Of mirrors long since passed

Riddles spoken in deed and name
Only to be forsakened tonight
With amorous moods alighting the wind
And sacrilege so sweet in midsts of moonlight

With nothing left but silence
That deafens the future to her own words
Like mercury long gone
With skin that still yearns

Gods long forgotten, forsakened
And we the delirious wonderers
With little but blood in our eyes
We learn that nothing is truly real

Only figments
Of what we truly are.

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Aequitas, in the year 438 AD.