5 Black Sun

I woke beneath a black sun, its warmth never reached the ground. Still... we gathered there, faces lifted, waiting for daylight that never came. Someone whispered that shadows were the new horizon. One by one we turned our backs on morning. No one noticed the silence growing louder. We stood beneath the black sun, calling it dawn. We drank from empty skies, calling it rain. The light never touched us. Still... we closed our eyes. The brightest voices cast the longest shadows. We learned to borrow someone else's sky. Hope became something we pointed at, instead of something we carried. We stood beneath the black sun, calling it dawn. Every promise warmed our hands... then disappeared before the morning. Still... we stayed. It isn't darkness that blinds us. Only the habit of mistaking brightness for light.