|
And as they say, grief is only able to possess. |
|
The rotting body clad in ancient clothes |
|
is left behind with a wave of the hand. |
|
I have gone away. The bed is cold and empty. |
|
Trees bend their boughs toward the earth. |
|
And nighttime birds float as black faces. |
|
It was the hand reaching out through the mirror. |
|
Unknown and scarred by life... |
|
the luring eyes, you had never seen. |
|
You have nothing more to find. |
|
You have nothing more to loose. |
|
The cold season drifts over the land. |
|
They huddle in the brown corners. |
|
Some would settle for less. |
|
The castles were all empty, asleep. |
|
Long awaiting their king. |
|
Beckoning round the bend. |
|
Amidst the forest one would hear that I had been there. |
|
Draped within a fate I could not change, |
|
and always welcoming Winter's EPILOGUE. |