A Kenotic Moment.

I sit here again, a year gone by.
As though I were frozen in time,
caught in dereliction.
the dead rose withered by my feet,
red blackened petals like shattered sheets
amid the hues of the sunset speak
troubled troubled times,
here this red sky in the morning,
a clear warning.

the little giant girl, she took her leave,
now along the trails, amidst the reefs,
her story story sunken to the depths of the sea
her eyes, her precious eyes,
a cadged glow withered now, so silently.
along the ridge, the fishes swim,
they are old and weary, thin and dreary
a beggar would pass this off (wouldn't take it on a limb)
this idea grows cold.
long and forgot, it beckons not
the lost and the thought
falters stops and dies.

i have no more energy to seek this chase,
a hope grows so shallow,
(a thin thread to hang onto)
here the accursed grey box grows heavy,
so apt proportionately abnormal,
it was charged no levy
to enter the world,
this curse of kenosis.
in the shadow of friends. (do i spend enough time?)
the world holds persistant its stance.

oh accursed me.
all the wrong i have done,
all subconsciously, all unknown,
no recompense can be given knowingly.
i want to change. (rid myself of me)
so tacitly, in turn so desperately,
yet the wait holds out like wolves in winter.
the snow covers all identity.
it's all grey.