In qualms of one long, breathless night,
My breath spoke out with mirthless might,
With oxygen nowhere to be seen,
How long has this night really been?
The shrouded fog has found its nest,
Yet knocks glass panes just as a test-
To see if I know dusk from dawn,
With rose-hued glasses still kept on.
The shadowless roads are gloomy ghouls,
That dance in pools of learned fools.
My stumbling breaths shiver in frozen haze,
The shriek of silence — loud for calming daze.
I wore the smile my lips held close to my core,
But it condensed on a glassy, eclectic shore.
The skies outside were stained with smoke and ink,
My night light flickered, soft in pink.
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