“Miles to go,” so they say.
I’ve lost the light of future days.
All that remains is hour on hour —
strung along from tower to tower.
In the dark, by the screen’s glow,
and my charge is getting low.
When it zeroes, I’ll be shut out
of that which knows what it’s about.
In the dark, no shore in sight.
I glide, no hope of coming light.
They say there’s a fix of clarity,
if you can find Midnight Charity.