Heading for Terror

As I shifted in the darkness of the morning

Under the pebbles

Making a consistently uneven rhythm,

I finally became convinced

That we are headed for the depth of winter,

And Christmas lights will not deter us.

It is ‘cool’ to like winter,

But I am not enamored of the terrible death.

There is slight hope for serenity

Long after the bottom.

I know spring may only

Come after this barren landscape,

A landscape with no love left,

But I might not live to see spring.

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  1. The Dilution of Christmas Terror « stillfugue

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