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i wrote this at two in the moning without thinking about it and have not truthfully read it untill no so im suprised its any good at all.

day to night
The day is hot and feels of fire
but it is not the day that I desire
for no heat can warm the soul
but simply scorch an empty hole,

of life or death then life again
I'd give mine to other men
for if I cannot see your face
then better off not waste your grace,
now its not long until the end
and maybe I've still life to spend
but not on me my life is spent,

if the breeze does pull to rest
then gladly I would face its breath
for when the day ends so fast
I'll be gone and you'll have night at last