The morning that was shining so brightly,

was the opposite; so dimly.

The heart that ached,

The heart that broke,

was the thought of an unsatisfied stroke.

The sharpness of the mind,

made the eye go blind.

The afternoon [that] grew old,

was [something] unexpectedly cold.

Through the skin that barred,

that the flesh faded.

A thin line of evening; so pale.

[The] Light grew clear.

The unsatisfied stroke needed to unbend,

for the senses; for the chances.