Midnight

The chill of winter's settling in,
I'm bathing in the darkest sin,
Churning in a bath of crimson blood
rain, tears, clay and mud.

What is there to the human condition,
That prevents us from being able to love,
Hearts shrouded in the darkness of midnight,
Always bringing us together to fight.

When will it be our time to go,
Other species die, and we don't know
or care rather, that's what it is,
The deaths of all those which are his.

Tears rain out in the midnight chill,
A lone figure, on yonder hill,
Sitting alone, pondering human condition,
Lost in his own juxtaposition.