Hollowed spirit,
mirrored soul.
winged messenger of flight...

Doomsday's forgotten seed...

lest your existence be for naught
as you bandage your wound of dreams lost
with a torniquet of bludgeoned memories

for you see, the moon's embrace
has been the only solace of
this woman who stands before you

her image no longer recognizable,
for she resides where only spirits dwell

her soul, transparent
unable to mask the pain
while shards of regret stain crimson
across once periwinkle horizons

For icicles have taken up residence within

the shadows still summon me
on too frequent an occasion
and I've not felt the need
to bask in the rays of light

Until now...

Come with me,
let us cast aside our apprehensions
and take that final step into
the land of the living