The Darkest Hour

Upon the start of twilight, dawn sits just

below horizon’s blanket, chafe with strife

due to the strict proximity of life

to death, however one man’s night is just

another man man’s day and one must adjust

to the entire knowledge that this life

the way it carries in men, will push strife

to cause imbalance that more so will thrust

 

men into midnight skies where their heart lies

where most will combust into a thousand

of stars that can’t be traced back to the cries

before the sun’s shadow retires and

calls for the darkest hour to arise

and return home, the place where men can’t stand

 

 

Petrarchan Sonnet: Iambic Pentameter with an ABBAABBA CDCDCD end rhyme