for nothing

winter

and I wish

for nothing

wading

through the windows fragment

stranded

on the rigid edge

through the stoic’s desperate prism

flailing

at the frigid words

that struck the essence

of her absence

weeping

at the widow’s ledge

where i lept

i lept

i lept

not enduring

prospective

to endure another

year

of endless conscious

err

siphon

every value

dearest

indolent

for i

alone

unavailing.

a fever dream

perperuant

of fervid flight

unearthed.

enshrined.

thine ever-looming

unavailing

vortices

through time, though fragile

squander even death’s decay

in verses

of mine own aver

e’er wrought

on planes of sole implicit

disilluded

the hours arouse disillusion

bedraped

upon fraughted remorse

fretful meander

propels its pulse

onward

exacting a will

fit for none

with fury

unfurling

and blusterous breast

the “worst”

would conspire

amid chaos

so tireless

did prove

as a victor unwitting

then felled by a fire

resolute

present

as sorrow sows

its seed anew

I reap

its savage wander

again

a grievance

rends me

unaware

and spares me

not

its grave

to earth

afar from my grasp

was a wisdom

unsound

to have held all

and nothing

at once

and how

I would wince

as its tinsel unwound

wearing wounds

she has yet

to repent