ominouspoet

winter wages her war outside
angrily beating her ice-hands on my doors
thrashing branches she sends through the air, 
a flurry of soft snow not far behind
she screams her wind-scream, rage filling the storm.

tis the cycle of things,
this dying,
this hunger

tis the cycle of things,
the cold and the winter

tis the cycle of things,
this living,
this dying

tis the cycle we live
in our broken, bleeding world

oftentimes i get so sick of living
and i just wanna run away

i know it doesn't fix much
but if i keep moving,
maybe it won't catch up

death is upon us
winter is coming

she will sweep in with an icy breeze
spreading her wings over our puny town

she breathes her freezing breath through the streets
she buries us in her snow

slowly we freeze

Persephone was tired. Tired of being nothing more than the daughter of a nearly forgotten goddess, of being a sweet innocent nymph, a girl content to frolic in fields under the sun.

hey
maybe I never knew you,
maybe you never knew me.

but I remember
you are not forgotten
I will not let you fade from memory,
won’t let your life wash away in the rain.