Antimony (Skepticism)

Cold creeps in and I start to feel Each bone of each my fingers Darkness like a cloak on my shoulders Silence almost close enough to touch I play my part Footsteps echo in the corridor In the dust is a left a trail The light pale but not the mind I play my part Not once will ask for more Not once will ask for less Belittle the hardness of others Glorify the part of mine I play my part The cold not better than the warm The light as welcome as the dark The sour as sweet as delight I play my part