In the exhausted dawn,

you rise,

and trudge your iron feet sleepily to the looking glass.

You are not the same.

Can the mirror match the tender, loving kindness that was so ubiquotous in days past?

The kind that could dance with candle flames, in a precarious ballet?

Light will always cast a shadow, like the one which was once distant but comes down, looming over us now.

You could see it if you'd only look up, look up, LOOK UP.

The light, which once illuminated our lungs and filled the heart in my chest is one you're forgetting now. 

Desperate, we grapple for the afterglow,

to keep this going. to keep it going.

Grovel in this mediocrity,

pity the sorrowful juxtaposition

of what we are now

and what we once were.

Lend your heart your ears, 

clutch a seashell to your chest,

and listen for the ocean.

because the salt burned your eyes,

and you are not the same.