My Blackest Midnight

The world falls into a quiet sleep,

As if the hour of midnight has arrived.

All but the sound of my cries as I weep,

Seems to be a pointless, withering lie.

There was once for me a better time,

In which my heart beat for one reason.

Back then, I did not long to die,

And I was awed by each passing season.

Your reflection awaited my tired eyes,

And your touch never seemed far away.

Every loving promise you made was mine,

Though I never knew what you wanted to say.

When we were together, we said nothing,

Dancing lightly around on this thin ice.

Though on our tongues rested many somethings,

We always chose to remain in silence.

Each day, we whirled around and around,

Never cracking the fragile crystal under our feet.

With our mouths shut, we made not a sound,

Yet made a myriad of romantic vows to keep.

Until at last, I gradually awoke,

And every picture you painted disappeared.

Until at last, every we word we never spoke,

Melted into a thousand new fears.

Reality chased away our soft romance,

And clarity revealed to me you weren't there.

You must have found a new place to dance,

Leaving me behind to be so deeply scared.

Now I wrap my arms around myself,

And I bow my head so that I may cry.

Our dream has become my tortuous hell,

And my blackest midnight has arrived.