down its endless expanse my life of misery I do condone.
Lights from stalwart sentinels cast upon thee,
if only then could I truly see,
as the misty balms of a diminished fire waylays my being.
disconsolate It feels to walk as frigged winds begin to sing,
yet proffers secrets long lost and fathomless into sight,
bringing solemn realizations I can not fight.
tears glisten and frost as they cascade across this ugly mask,
as silver strings of moonlit beads prepare to see there last.
and cursed I'd be to traverse this land,
till the hour glass surrenders its final sand.