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Now is the time of Winter’s memory as it has always been and forever shall be.. (Brace thyself)

“Almost Touching”

a constant witness
to misconceived footmen,
galloping shadows within the eyes of Man,
and my murdered body as it leaks upon the sand

My quavering voice
lingering through drifts
multitudinous, rampant,
skin tightening with each slowing step
bitten by an ice cold breath.
Aching, parched, and throbbing
I begin to cease.

The cold water upon my hand burns..

I stop.
Impervious to light,
to heat.
A numbness wrapped
in an unyielding frost riddled veil.

Paralysed not by Fear, Hunger, nor Misconception
Nature has no misgiving,
only frailty.

Feeling “all” within pendular actions of
entities mistaken and misconstrued.
“All” is now that fake stillness caressed by Oblivion’s kindness.
The winds eating away, corroding my arteries,
A distance, an arm’s length of time, I freeze at the doorstep.






















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