The nostalgia in waiting.
The yearning relief.
In blanketed branches,
after skies unleash…
and winds blow through
rendering skies ever blue…

Glistening frost light.
Transitory, shining bright.

Is this so sacred because we can’t keep it?
Do we only love because we will lose?
If life was ever lasting would we need it?
Is loss what we would choose?

Autumn’s beauty withers to grey;
Does that make it more desired?
Winter’s tranquility melts away
Either by spring or by fire.

Either by ice or by rot.
This life is all we have got.
We have nothing else to lose,
as we make a home of our tomb.

For all love we deny,
for all the poison we imbibe.
For all memories lost to time
Another part of us dies.

Running ever slower now that a limb is gone.
Blind eyes still perceive the beauty of the dawn.
Beyond all sunsets and into the dark of loss,
The snow greyed and the sky dimmed for it’s cost.

The phantom limb heart for the soul weathered numb,
The celluloid dances for the
dead and succumbed.
The symphony plays forever on into the abyss.
The messages screaming to those who will never hear this...