The Daylight People

Some find comfort by the sea

near the gentle lull of waves

I find solace in a cemetery

Among a marble ocean of graves

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Some may sit in the shade under

Oaks, in light placidity,

But my heart finds ease in thunder

And my soul craves morbidity

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Many those who remember

the bliss of warm summer days

But I prefer bleak December

Wand’ring through a gloomy haze

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I live betwixt dead and dour

For in this I feel alive

And find more in the mid-night hour

Than all of daytime could contrive

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Yet there they lounge in sunlight

And sip their vanity

That heedless, cheery, fragile, bright

Whole of humanity

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But I have no need for such relief

Whilst I wade in waters stygian

For what is their comfort, I believe,

But a balm against oblivion?