where is the sun--- where am i hiding?

That when the lavender reeks of basil
shall welcome the low evening’s mourns
When black amidst, my birch has no hazel
Dusk perches, trills solemn--- the dawn forlorn

Blurred the lines that dent my fall
when dark clusters the dividend of day
placidity in tenths, i shiver to cry
And to smell the haze of mid-May

Mild is the evening’s coos--- too late…
Bleak marks reigned victor--
-ashen, damp— morning waits
As i grieve the death of--
a lonely chorus churns to lost sparks

What’s done? I’ve been caged, scourged, cursed in the dark--
the sun.