Simply Darkness Now

Your grief is simply darkness now:
no tear, no ache, no rage.
Turn off all lights with the last bow and wage an empty stage.
Your font is simply a warped print:
no cast, no trace, no mark.
Turn off all dyes with the last stint and park an empty lark.
Your mood is simply somber grave:
no hope, no sun, no joy.
Turn off all awe with the last rave and cloy an empty ploy.
Your faith is simply a pale trust:
no depth, no rock, no stand.
Turn off all yens with the last thrust and land an empty hand.
Your view is simply dismal murk:
no chance, no fate, no luck.
Turn off all bets with the last perk and duck an empty pluck.
Your heart is simply a black hole:
no peak, no side, no base.
Turn off all bells with the last toll and face an empty grace.