elancharan gunasekaran

grey streets littered with them fallen from grace the wingless and faithless what will it take to light a little fire in their hearts

fog trap the face of the culprit never fades

dry eyes oh winter sky would you cry for me

we’ve walked a long way now and arrived at the soul of winter

each word a brick a beam a foundation driven into the space of void to create a world for the reader

the battle with sleep drifts out of focus until only nothingness remains

the smoke trails off and returns curling an invitation from a dark and misty place as limbs move uncontrollably towards the gloom

the names of the dead become paths in the dark forest to walk is to trample and to trample is to wake death

the winter night continues wounds patched and prowling the edges of reality