Herald of Storms

a distant frigid chill
in its passion
had primitively
accosted my lungs
unto the dead
breath has been sung

this frozen gale
call to my bones
the ice in my veins
flows once more
from the ebb of stone
comes a current of cold
in winter snow
more than smoke
I am home

flames consumed the spark
lifeless ruin abandoned
amongst the ashes
sworn in grief
petrified the remains
where they last lay

heavy my steps
I contemplate
my final rest
the solace I found within
I cannot contest
I will not succumb
to the weakness
of this mortal reality

pain that defines
evade acceptance
truth bears not a witness
behold the tide of progress
fear is not my master
as I become the tempest

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