Waking

At six a.m., the world is fast asleep.

The sky is dark, the air is still and cold.

This grayscale world is safe and quiet and deep.

I feel intrusive, chancing here to creep

And break the silence--dare I be so bold?

At six a.m., the world is fast asleep.

My tears would freeze, had I the cause to weep--

This twilight hour pulls sorrow from my hold.

This grayscale world is safe and quiet and deep.

If sun were out, a child I'd be, and leap

From drift to drift; this morning, though, I'm old.

At six a.m., the world is fast asleep.

If only I'd some sort of way to keep

This calm around, as life's events unfold;

This grayscale world is safe and quiet and deep.

The price of peace is loneliness--quite steep.

To me, predawn's a respite, pure as gold.

At six a.m., the world is fast asleep.

This grayscale world is safe, and quiet, and deep.