December

Cold December shades of gray,
The fire starts to die.
Vision blurs on frozen eyes,
I will shed no tears.

One spark still lives,
The war goes on,
A finite struggle,
To survive.

Soul of smoke,
A black trimmed sky,
Mirrors your lifetime,
Of madness.

When all strange visions,
Fade into none,
Somewhere a mind,
Still remembers.

As I stare into the dying embers,
They cry out to the wind,
But cold, cold December,
Never hears.

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