Darkness

It covers my head,

I cannot see beyond my cold hands,

My hands seem to heavily weigh down the actions of the days.

The slow days spin by little delight in them,

I can only see myself thinly in a blur of motion.

Only myself is in the focus, which makes me so unhappy and desiring quick change.

The change does not make me move; it sits on the ground.

The black dawn blocks the light.

My hands hold my heavy head low.