Now again as january wanes, I hold in my hand a swathe of days. the seasons again change, with the passing of Aurora's flames,
and the lush green floods back into the plains.
Yet still I wait for darker days. The Earth trembles and ocean waves, the sky moves silent, and clouds do stay. A wind tumbles carelessly just like some game. Yet still I brace for those darker days.
A tree has grown taller, just another turn of the vine.
a mountain did crumble, as a lover did pine.
a beautiful life borne, and at this same time.
I fear these darker days.
Can you not feel it? do you not see?
to you this is news , but certainly not to me.
I see them then, I felt them now.
They are here to pass, still unknown how.
yet I hold fast for THE Darker Days.