winter solstice

I usually love the night              
the fluent anonymity              
its secrets ride hollow winds              
serenading my nyctophilic soul...              
              
serpentine reflections              
upon moonlit rivers              
abrogate onerous thoughts                
of the winter rose                
dying inside...              
              
the algid necrosis              
from which it once flourished              
no longer bleeds quintessence              
essential for its frail                
yet fierce existence...              
              
I swallow stygian cries              
amidst desperate kisses              
trying to brave the swift              
of this ominous current...  
    
for hades awaits                
to pick the bones,              
sift the ash;              
consecrate the past              
in titan slumber...              
              
what feels like the shortest day                
becomes the longest night              
as I reluctantly sleep            
knowing the light of your dawn              
may never again break              
in my heart...

-ed