Does the night have an end?
Will dawn break upon me at last?
My face has seen only the moon,
Reflected light of the promised day.
Every time I see promise of dawn,
Rays looked for beyond the horizon,
She fades once more into dusk
And daylight escapes my eyes.
Surely, the dawn must approach!
Now, I say, I am certain of it!
Or have my eyes only adjusted
To dimness, to lack of sun’s light?
How can I even know the sun?
Perhaps this is daybreak after all
And I am only incapable of seeing
Through eyes maladjusted to light.
Or do I hold out in waning hope
For a gift I would not recognize
Were I ever to be blessed with it?
The night lends itself not to hope.