Grey Decembers
are a dark age
of numbing loss.
Therein,
we let loose
and lost.
The war
against Winter’s frost,
and the claiming of souls
too numb to the cost
of caring.
Again,
we draw our swords
and push to the front,
undaunted,
filled with fear,
yet ‘ever-relentless.
Hold tightly and hope
that hopelessness
can be slain
by a heroic thrust
from our dulling spears.
Wage the war, eternal,
in battles of a hundred years,
often less, but rarely more.
We might kill this greyness,
but are we too exhausted
to claw forth
into the coming
warmth?
© CG Tenpenny, 2021.
