crickets

morning sun remains hidden
as sheets of growing darkness
cover the dawn with gliding
fervor; crickets relay songs
of summer as they drift slowly
into winter’s sleep;
and how this heart of mine
beats quickly, remembering
the change in time, and how the light
slowly drifted from before my eyes-
as what was left of my innocence
was stolen by the marching of
soundless ignorance…
what was i before this breaking
that took my mind?
crickets still fight against the impending
darkness that will cause their demise
and I wonder, why couldn’t i?

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