There are still a few hours left
of this night - of this day,

Wherein, lurks the stranger,
whose mask had almost seemed
like a face.

A trap, as once before, I'd seen.
But this one, far more cunning,
and dowsed with plain day,
so as to disguise itself,
in the open.

A new and changed self,
I recharged, in my way,
and saw through,
at the last moment,
wherein, desperation fell
and I was but a source
to be paid,
when the time was right,
and not before.

I release a breath
into the coming cold,
and it swirls around me,
mimicking the inside,
outside.

Another day is far, far behind,
but its cold remains,
soaking through the evening,
dampening all around
and leaving no note.

Subtle nemesis,
baked in familiar warmth,
with eyes like a father,
and hands steady.
But now, my own eyes are open,
aware and watching.

It all goes down tonight.