This is when I like it best,
The air icy cold and opaque,
Everything laced in inky shadow,
The streetlamp flames aglow.
Feeling alive and awake,
Consumed in vivacity, barely supressed.

The sky a bright, darkening blue,
Stars-delicately emerging,
Clouds-a dark graphite grey,
On the streets I stray.
Destined paths diverging,
Yet fusing together, ceaseless and true.

I walk while the world dreams.
Searching through the edges of air,
Everything still, on the brink,
Of holding potential to break in a blink.
This is when I am unaware,
Of the one who reigns supreme.

Later, the sky-dusky, bleak.
But the stars luminously shine.
His image in my memory is clear,
Brisk, and sharp as he appears,
And his eyes, that his soul will define,
Pierce me till I'm weak.