The black wave fails to haunt me here,
Outside I lived
Outside I believed
Outside of Outside I was born.
I descended to this vacancy
in the unwelcoming embrace of a black winter,
not that it is of concern,
for carved inside memories
of your love nurture comfort.
Venturing through the bleak garden
of cancerous trees in a daze, always
I cling to your words as a crutch
of stability. In avenues of charcoal
sombre ivy, against the reflect
of winter hinterland, I crouch entranced
by the future frozen as a corpse
in snow. My eyes have failed to focus
strained by infinite horizons of blinding white.
Athena preserved in the hibernation orchard
cries for us to be everything all at once,
I wander in this desolate grey
suffocated with brittle autumn leaves
fragile as everything we cherish,
drifting I become lost yet what is seen
remains imprinted on my skin.
I have prayed on this blessed ground
for space to dream eternally.
Thorns emerge through my slumber
awaking me into a frozen agony,
flowers blossom from the blood of my scars.
There shall be no mercy
for the weeping souls.
The garden's callous nature demands
that its children must suffer
in the shadow of a black winter
to earn the sanctuary of life.