The night brings with it no will to fight.

The battle is lost, and nothing’s gone right.

No tears to cry, no wings to fly.

So for now, I say goodbye.

If our paths again may cross,

then I won’t count this war as lost.

For though my heart is torn with strife,

you are the one who brings it to life.

A beautiful, mid-April, spring morning here in Laramie, Wyoming.

[ Insert heavy sarcasm here ]