In secular hustle of city streets,
neons cozen the weary,
flicker with promise of eternal nights,
fleeting moments to wake the dreary.

but 'neath the surface, there's no converse,
only an echo, leitmotif of isolation,
lost in a labyrinth of sweet sensation,
loss of life in soul's stagnation.

dry as a beggar's over-parched throat
as an over-burnt piece of blackened rye-toast
as the golden sand in Sahara roast
was the air o' the day of the black death-note

as the air crackled with the laughter of death
and claimed the millions as it left bereft
daughters of the earth their heart a-cleft
from the breath of the devil with the head of Macbeth

Houses, untenable, ditched searing memories,
Turned sarcophagi from life and its treasuries
Scorched skeletons of sagas and histories,
Of family feuds, celebrations and victories,
Of open secrets and whispered mysteries,

Years of toil blest by gold sunbeams,
The laughter of babes and the giggle of teens,
Now fractured windows and ash blackened beams,
Skeletal remains of life and its dreams.

In the hush of winter’s breath,
Where mountains sleep,
Stands a crest, silent,
Nestled in nature’s ice.

In white array, dawn whispers.
Lustre o' icicles reflect approach o' morn,
The voice of the eagle soaring,
The song of the unheard sun,
Break forth in new excursion.

In gelid breath of winter's night,
Shadows chase a fading light,

Beneath grey moon,
the stars are still,
No warmth to break the biting chill,

Through frosty winds and icy rain,
In cloak of winter's harsh domain,
As landscape wraps in frozen frill,
Another victim in frigid ****,
A helpless world lies still,
In winter's grip.

in a box
stiller than the asphalt concrete
no soul within

round about the air hangs heavy
teardrops on the leaves
and clouds hold back

no more tears left in heaven.

In haze of wintry pallor,
Weighed by days gone by,
My memories flutter,
Once pristine, like cloudless sky,
now, beleaguered by heavy sighs,
they fade one by one b'fore my eyes.

Where dreams once swelled
they now falter. Quelled.
Fated to die.

Yet where they lie lingers a shadowy breath,
With echoes eternal beyond the setting sun,
Beyond the quiet of creeping death,
Emotions as a tapestry spun,
Newest fingerprint of the One.

The ashen yolk struggled to shine
Its effervescence had clearly waned,
Now tired, cold, and weary,
its face looked worn and pained

Yet i knew in my heart it was here to stay,
and would persevere regardless
it would watch the days as they passed away
and forever it would light up the darkness