Is this one of those final nights?

His cautious mind begins to think,

And the only existing light

Begins to perpetually blink. 

 

Is this one of those final nights

Where the blank page waits

For the last bit of the ink,

And the equivocal breaths

Insinuate that the lungs 

Are beginning to sink?

 

Is this one of those final nights

Where the evening sky

Sets the last hopeful sight,

Or are there a little more?

Questions his optimistic heart 

In the dying of the light,

And through the obscurity,

The darkness scoffs

On the return of the

Cancerous cough.