World of Shadow

A whispering wind passes by
mourning the swift loss of light;
the heavy clouds that bring closer the sky
and the fast falling dark veil of night.

But is it so wrong to rather the dark?
To prefer the sweet comfort of sorrow?
For a grey mist to cover the sun
and the lingering tears of a storm in the morrow?

I denounce the cruel summer light
that makes deserts out of spring’s evergreen meadows;
instead I welcome the comforting touch
of a world dimmed with bittersweet shadows.