I pursue the night,
while the snow quaffs the coldness
although treaded with footsteps,
they are still insanely bright,

our shadows retired early that day,
like a jotted desolated house,
my body aches and cracks into a million voices
when the past steps foot, slowly within myself,

In a quilt near the fireplace,
I retraced back to the autumn,
brewing like a golden ale,
somewhere within me,

I still remember that magnanimous deer,
who eyes poked my soul for an answer,
sometimes it haunts my dreams,
staring in nights like this,
through the window.

the strings and threads,
that binded my sanity
and this earth,
is breaking now,

a well lived life,
question's it's existence,
it's a manual override,
in a place where wires refuse to mate,
it all ends like this,
I am sure it would.
I pray it should,
while I pursue the night.