The shadows are a residence
beyond the glow of the light
asking only that the gloom
provides cold comfort in place of warmth

solace granted by iteration
once again the balm is harsh
still the salve must be used
when the options are not found

a repetition of the grind
in response the gods would cry
this rapt attention is by their hand
the tears promote the ache of growth

when the pain is the par
blessings filling the empty void
by contrast the worst is best
when nothing else prevails within

Persephone is the resident
companion in survival’s strife
patterns clutched in time of lack
that sad abode beyond hope’s grasp.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181219.