no shortcuts the winterlight brings war to frail eyes
Tag: fiction
the stage fades to black and I find myself talking to my self
outstretched arms invite the winter sun to be devoured
deal sealed: darkness agrees to be gentle
winter at dawn silence earns its wings
democracy is dead: tired minds drift from opinion to opinion but none their own
the winter moon sits on a cold hill and together they imagine warm days
the sentient sword dreams of a river flowing even when sheathed
what begins as a dull night waves crash and exaggerate the crescent moon enters stage scantily clad in pale light as the coast bursts into a raucous applause
winter’s crow stumbles on an outcrop: realms collide
