Endless Winter

Our search for summer wages, through wintry winds midst snow,
Flanked by faces, memories auld lurk in ever darkening shadows,
Timeless we lie, lulled by the winter gloom to a dreamless sleep,
Poets muse their sunkissed nostalgia, whilst lost butterflies weep.

There's a cacophony of half hearted slogans and half a desperate cry,
So long there's uncertainty about, yet they say we could all die,
So we search for songs, for unsaid words, to romanticise apocalypse,
Raindrops reveal repressions uncouth, immersed in the wintry abyss...

Silent solace of lovers undone, strained by verbose incoherence,
They secretly lament the comfort of lies, withdrawing from the other's presence;
Neath the absent sunlight, in the seamless gray, by hordes of barren trees,
They promise to return to a warmer day, settling for a rather rushed kiss.

We harbour fetishes in perfect solitude, seduced by hallucinations,
Alienated mortals face the clarion truth, stripped of all abstractions.
As the longest night birthed godslayers; so eternal return was realised,
Yet the world but heard the cackle of chambers, midst vapour that invaded the skies.

The strings wail in melancholy circles, with sweet soulless finesse,
While doors stay shut to whetted winds, securing the existential haze.
We pray the rains cleanse this dying globe, perhaps breathe life to the stasis,
Shall we then resign to the doomed revelation, cherish the cruel catharsis?

So the snow turned crimson with shame, as we bared sacrificial knives,
Tragedy ushered by her sworn guardians, for we penned our own demise.
Thus ended the winter of endless contemplation, all infernal perversions revealed,
Then Spring came waltzing to the graveyards at dawn, and butterflies dorned green fields.