Your tomorrows were the palest shade of dark

Your tomorrows were the palest shade of dark,
translucent film over many yesterdays;
mine, brilliant, and blindingly white, and stark.

Dauntingly concrete, taunting me to leave a mark,
my tomorrows threatened, blanked, and blazed.
Your tomorrows were the palest shade of dark.

Billowing, unbidden like a lark,
your tomorrows were always in a wispy haze;
mine, brilliant, and blindingly white, and stark.

Like a slender curl of smoke after a single spark
that quickly fades to black as it strays,
your tomorrows were the palest shade of dark.

But from our perpetual yesterdays I had to embark
on today, where on its cusp tomorrow stays,
mine, brilliant, and blindingly white, and stark.

I feared through the clock's sweeping arc.
Have you made it here to meet my gaze?
Your tomorrows were the palest shade of dark;
mine, brilliant, and blindingly white, and stark.