The cold welcomes you home,
Like eviction notices and ghosts in the attic,
Something is crying all night long
Something is turning this place hollow
Something nobody wants to admit is here
The valley is buried and the Shepards **** the flock one by one to spare them the pain of transition,
No act of mercy goes unpunished,
In every act of mercy there is a promise,
For Jeremiah, the doom of Jerusalem carried with it a promise of cleansing, so he opened his mouth and raised his arms to the sky and let the word travel through him, but when he had had enough, he shut his mouth and locked the prophesy inside his chest where it burned his heart so viciously he weeps still to this day in his tomb
For Alexander, the sword held a promise of unity, so the old king rode among his men as a lion with pride, resplendent in gold and the light of divine purpose, but when the light went out, those cruel gods sank their teeth into the kings stomach and cursed him to fade forever into marble and history
For the Bolsheviks, the rifle and the pamphlet bore promise of utopia, so they armed the masses to the teeth and let hell claim the tsar, but when the long winter came, they stared down the barrel of their own guns and wondered, what good can come of this world after all?
For me, the snow brings with it a promise of remembrance, so I dig in, light a fire, and let it consume me slowly, as it has always done