surreal dyad...

is morning the herald of hope?
i asked...

mornings, the songs of those who look and find hope in them,
was your reply...

to which, i said...
then why do i dread the coming of light?

and you didn't respond...

i turned and walk away, disappointed.

you only dread because you refuse it...
was your resounding answer to my back.

and under my breath, i muttered...
no, it refuses me.