i am brazen, and callous, and in-between;
i am safe to roam and go unseen;
but i am not an island, not stand-alone,
with roots that burrow far, far to home.
you are enamour, and repent, embodiment thereof;
even (especially) as twilight, velvet and soft;
you are a wall that hinders, yet harbours a stair,
that leads only up, and arrives, still, everywhere.
we are one and the same, these thoughts of which,
you and i dig deep-er and longer a continuous ditch;
-ing this world, eventually, alone;
in the dark, we (you and i) are forlorn.
so with this verse has come to pass, and before my dawn is slight, and old;
i beg with fingers poised aright, forgiveness from you (and us) as a whole.