What It Is

This is a broken day,
With no space for words.
Candles, they dance and
Candles, they laugh in the gloom.

Alone in this room of glass.
Where the chime of the distant bells sing,
they sing,
they sing of the woe in me.
And the subtle melody floats
While I dance with the prance of the flames.

The whistling of the wind I once embraced,
On the way, I sang for you.
The riven paths I've walked,
they strengthened me,
and then they felled me.

And I fell.

But here in this chamber,
With the chandelier of the moon,
I dance with none but my reflection.
When I don't know who I am,
I dance with none but my shadow.

But when I am nothing,
I dance alone.
For you left me here,
cold beside the fire.

And all I remember lies
Frayed, fractured.
But with broken knees,
I run.

Away.

Winter's Dirge

The thrush sings its tale of sorrow,
leafless branch,
lifeless tree.
A shadow upon the snow,
shivers, quivers, withers,
as we.
As we do.

The faint sunlight screams,
Wake ! you slumbering eyes.
Heavy the sword,
heavier the cross.

The burden falls !
Unveil the curtain.
Fall upon these cold instruments,
fall, this melody.

Drift into a different sea,
And the sunlight gleams at me.
And oh ! I flow, watch ! I flow.
As the sun softly melts the snow.

In a long time,
it's the first time.