The light was harsh, the coming dark still harsher,
Where hope dies cold and fear lies underground;
No target heart, no arrows and no archer —
No Cupid, just a frozen temple mound
From natives long ago: their unknown sorrows
Are buried somewhere, layered in the past:
One desolate today, and no tomorrows –
An empty, frozen waste
At lifelong last
To share is human:
Beautifully Penned!