I went to walk around a lake-
I went to cry myself awake-
The sky above was crimson light,
I went to dull this humble ache.
My tears were clear, and that despite,
That nothing else was black and white.
The warmth of grief, my only friend-
Except the sky and the closing night.
I ask, aloud, when will this end?
How deep in grief must I descend?
At least, I weep, I don’t pretend-
My life’s a simple thing to mend.