The dusk,

Progeny to that soothing clementine,

Evokes that of inner contemplation.


What appears as one

Is rarely so,

As one is often two.


Where there is light, luminescent,

There is darkness, manifested.


Where the glow does kiss

Those gleeful boughs,

That menace, betrayal,

Coils, hisses.


That light is darkness,

That darkness is light.

With regal honesty

And heart as black as night,

What first gleams as if light darts as quickly as it were shadow.


Why does that fiend

Disguise it’s traitorous heart,

Only to rear its ugly head?

What pleasure does it get

From wielding that cold dagger?

A dagger that pierces,

Fiercely penetrates,

Ejecting sharp ice

Into the soul of that being.


That grove is life,

Everlasting life.

Life hidden,

Life contained,

A coward amongst those deceptions.


Waving boughs join in communion,

Merely to recoil, divided by that cobbled path.

The boughs of companionship,

Barred by trampled footpath,

Reeks of that demon, betrayal.


Why must the bonds of that union,

At first so sweet,

Crumble in that of the late evening gust?


Those limbs,


Speak of the dissolution of partnership,

Of friendship once treasured.


Across that battlefield,

That mottled, broken battlefield,

What brought those together

Now fades nearly as suddenly as it had come.

That beautiful, wholesome bond,

Severed for eternity.


The end of an era, as insignificant in the face of that history,

As anticipated by those insignificant.


At the end of that oppressive night,

They once more stand, unified

Against that shadow of past wrongdoing.

Allies now and forever,

Until the light gives way to the darkness once more.



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