NOT a Christmas Poem

In case anyone's wondering, the reason I'm posting at 4:28 in the morning is because I'm at an all nighter. It's one of my favourite parts of the holiday season, specifically on New Year's Eve, when my friends and I traditionally pull an all nighter.
There may be a poem about the middle of the night in a while, but also I might sleep, I'm not sure yet. In the mean time here's another poem off the Sugarland Christmas album. This is one of my favourite songs on the album. Although it is a traditional Christmas hymn, my poem has nothing at all to do with Christmas. Anyway, here it is.

-O Come, O Come, Emmanuel-

Is it grand or is it wrong or
is it sad to sing a song all
'bout a life we never had when
all that's left are crippled dreams.

I can hear melodic verse which,
spoken loud, makes true the worst of
what was said between our souls. We
face each other and our holes where

used to dwell a potent love with
chords reduced now to a dove of
deepest black and to a song of
frigid ice. With faces long we

fill the hall and echoes loud make
still us all although we vowed to
never leave we cannot stay here
anymore as our day ends.