One Long Struggle in the Dark 

Time entombs us all, and every breath

brings us closer to battle, every

exhale of life becomes one of death’s lovers;

nights pouring our minds into television,

glancing down at books we wouldn't read,

looking back at our mothers and fathers,

how akin we are despite our efforts,

and in the upbeat tempo of life we

rattle on like Monk's strange melodies and trills;

the dual existence of our loneliness

was a bedfellow we couldn't ignore,

heedless, digital age Sisyphus,

scrolling through life, virginality,

the pit of exhaustion and dead gaze,

gave us heavy drags on the black keys.