THE LONG DARK

The long dark
Offers no relief
In its grief
No end to its start

A cocoon
Ends its transformation soon

Though not until
Cycle fulfilled

It is fragile
In its sacred vigil

The weakness in the knees
Perhaps will never leave

But do not be distraught
A metamorphosis is promised
Sealed by Eve’s first kiss
To all those who enter the long dark

 

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