The Dead of Winter

What of this winter madness….
Why fear now ?
A draught that autumn left us
tells us tales of sunlit
afternoons

Invite me in to warm you
Let me in your dreams

This creature
so violent
he seems

Will I see young and new ?
The freshness that scares the cold
What if I do not make it through the winter,
what if my body is too old ?

This rocking-chair deceives me
and conjures up this fire,
soft bear-skin at my feet.

But my hair blows in the wind
and my sight is obscured by the shadows
the trees cast in the icy moon.
My feet sink into cold marshland
my hands fumble for brittle bark

I try not to see the glittering eyes
‘tween the brush
the breaths manifold and hushed

By this fireplace I read,
In this rocking-chair I sleep
My feet cozy and warm.

Why did I leave my house
On the brink of winter
When the northerly winds
come to chill the bone

Refused the invitations
of friends for warm meals
and melancholic drink

Maybe an instinct as old
as the rocks
makes my legs move

Maybe I know of the ritual
to perform when time
is mine
my time is nigh

The stars look different this night
This winter

My thoughts leave my house
and my life behind
It is time to embark
on a discovery
to a land so dark

This flesh too old
can not be expected to sustain
another gust, more hail and rain.

So I lay it down
In this forest
on the moist rotten floor
and let the eyes stare
once more
at stars, moon

Release
in a last sigh
for it will all be gone
soon

Words are failing I

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Never again

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Breaking my bones

Playing a dangerous game with words.

This cold morning in hell

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Nothing

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Sick

Playing a dangerous game with words.

BLUESOXYEARBIBLE

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Het hoofd in de wolken

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Metro Mind

Playing a dangerous game with words.

Noisy II

Playing a dangerous game with words.