Regret itself forms on my troubled face,
a leaf so crumpled all in ragged fleece .
A foot so heavy in a darkened place,
my grasp as frail no longer truly needs
my vision strong enough to be aware
a vacant presence basking in the dim.
accordant queen of high dismissed despair,
put me amidst them others that you wring.
Where hearts belong the place hits bottom row
before this witching clock of evil rung.
The switching blames find in their thraldom's bode
the past a window filled with shattered sun.
Then wind picks up around I'm broken glass,
within a shadow brought from evening's passed
