You, bitter trinity, long I have wed.
Our courtship started early in my years.
Your whispers, claiming you are truth, have led
Me to make you the author of my tears.

Dear Darkness, Sadness, Worry, as one you carve
The mortise to my tenon, joining me
Into your lifelong, seamless structure, fast.
That we are joined, not one, is hard to see,
With subtle signs that only few observe.
The love around us, silently, you starve,
Ensuring my fidelity will last.

Cruel Darkness, you faithless, possessive love,
Abandoning your consort to the light,
Then, jealously, you count the cost thereof,
To take your ounce of flesh in bitter spite.

You, alone, can change the world. Your power,
To refine the greatest brightness into dross.
The shining hills, the taste of apricot,
The lilting song, the lace of morning frost,
The magic kiss of love, the dew crowned flower,
the Sun Itself of marvelous strength, all cower.
With murky veil, you dim the shining lot.

Cold Worry, how your countenance comes forth,
Appearing with the first shade of a doubt.
Your vap’rous chill, descended from the north,
Instills penetrating fear throughout.

The future, only mist, you make a ghost,
That haunts tomorrow’s doorway with a dread,
And tells me, “through this threshold is despair.”
You, thief of night who chains me to my bed,
Do tear the gentle respite from its host.
To sleep, I sign a contract made for Faust,
With this aching soul, the bargain seems quite fair.

Sadness, you strum the lyre inside my breast.
The pitch is harsh, with dissonant refrain.
The clamorous noise, an overstayed guest,
That sings to me my failures, losses, pain.

You steal the day, and take me to a place
Regret becomes the main fare of this blight,
Seasoned through with bitter herbs of grief.
Your artist’s hand sculpts darkest moments bright,
Mistakes and wrongs once just a feeble trace,
Now chiseled deep into my fragile grace.
I never can make those trespasses right.

And so, great Trinity, you part of me,
Our intimacy is my greatest shame.
Though I cannot imagine being free,
The emptiness in me Is not your blame.

As with others of your wretched kind,
You dance eccentric waltzes with my heart.
I lately tasted of your apogee,
With your retreat to cold and distant parts.
Days of warming hope, redefined,
Stitched with fragile threads into my mind.
But then, you bound me with your gravity.