despair embodied in dark winter rain
through fitful sleep in absence of all dream
to wake pursuing the first pallid gleam
within a world marked by the human stain
there's not one thing that's simple clear or plain
nothing that honest living might redeem
from what we suffer at the last extreme
paid for in horror and in stabbing pain
there's no deliverance from what we are
nor is it chosen freely in the sun
in a light-hearted moment with a smile
by each of us no favourable star
can serve to light our steps on homeward run
nor gleam and brighten on the final mile

we strain to hear the music of new light
within each heart to tell the truth of strain
as we rebuild the castle once again
on land of hope with chances maybe  slight
indifferent between horror and delight
in a swift race to beat the winter rain
and certain that the walls won't keep out pain
but may succeed at shelter from the night
our hope is simple out there in the cold
no one survives so if we can defend
against the dark some little may endure
to do all this we must stay sharp and bold
from the harsh start right to the ****** end
for the one golden gift we can secure

none left behind except the final few
who dragging feet had given in to fear
and felt the cold now in the still dark air
there was no doubt but that each of them knew
no help would come not even what was due
since out beyond stood no one who would care
about such folk and none with heart to spare
for such as perish in cold morning dew
now liberation is the glory word
for when the yoke is taken off our backs
but that is not what happened on that night
the actual story’s complex and absurd
involving battles skirmishes and tax
with weeping loss of kindred truth and right

outside the winter storm is pelting down
with ancient power recalling us to true
vision of our places so then we rue
both the larger anger and the lesser frown
each gout of pressure under which we drown
unheeded here withheld from public view
still grasping for some force that would renew
each broken heart and smile at each sad clown
tonight we’re promised snow that will not stick
to the warm ground and ice that will not chill
for any length of time the naked skin
yet winter ‘s taking only the first lick
at these soft hides there’s still much room for ill
since we are in a race the clock must win

sleep  hides in dimmest corners of the night

refusing to reach out and hold us dear

for far too long our fears and pains seem bright



like scars of whiteness injuring the sight

bringing so many distant horrors near

sleep hides in dimmest corners of the night



while on each eye some terror will alight

so waking mind can slowly shred and tear

for far too long our fears and pains seem bright



thought after thought revolves upon harsh blight

and inner rack we’re thorough-cooked by fear

sleeps hides in dimmest corners of the night



options seem few and hope reduced to slight

expecting that the dawn might bring cool air

for far too long our fears and pains seem bright



yet there are answers left to turn times right

repairing rest while giving breath to spare

sleep hides in dimmest corners of the night

for far too long our fears and pains seem bright

where fallen angles now define true space
in steady motion of my dull dead blood
the quantity of which threatens to flood

beyond proper confine without such grace
as is expected in these times of mud
where fallen angles now define true space

our acts come under limits we can trace
out of the silence through each heavy thud
of closing vision as hope turns to dud
where fallen angles now define true space

in places known lacking all restriction
we lift our heads and arms extend their reach
whilst all the silent learn to practice speech
as sterling critics take honour from fiction
with truth resulting from the hard conviction
that since no one will give what we beseech
making reality out of all they teach
we must become our own true benediction
this is a world where silence means dissent
from standard syllogisms of bright command
yet we are bound to  stay within the mesh
of human ******* of what is meant
by these creations of the head and hand
that come together in the mortal flesh