Waiting for a friend.

Tonight is as cold and as dark as it gets
Tonight I want break down and cry, not impress

Tonight I want to talk and not make sense
Tonight I don’t want a lover; tonight I want a friend

Of the lady, whose vile seductress charms I endure
Of the lady, who rouses prodigious lust, passion not of the soul

Of the lady, I have no need. Tonight’s a different kind of cold
Of the lady, I need is of different sorts

Of the cold that hallows every breath
Of the cold that desecrates the life that it brings

Of the cold that contradicts itself
Of the cold that no lady can stave off, only a friend

Of the darkness that is calm as it seeps into your soul
Of the darkness that rages inside and then goes off

Of the darkness that you confuse for light
Of the darkness that consumes lovers, sets them alight

At the end the lady smiles at me, how long can I wait?
At the end the darkness revels in the splendor of its malevolence

At the end I need warmth for the cold; it burns
At the end, I will die, no afterlife, no rebirth

At the end I will die, still waiting for a friend.