The Smile of the Unvanquished

O dweller of wuthering aeons and blood-encrusted steel, silhouette forged from smokeless fire: stand tall amidst the bustling writhering of sleek parasites carving evermore grim runes on the slopes of arid and rugose bosoms festooned by the comatose dregs of the world; horizons are cluttered, the wind directions in disarray like corpses hanging about galeblown gallows: steer clear from their bacchanales, take no heart of distant shorelines - the eye of the storm is one and ubiquitous, once the rage wavers and fades into oblivion.

daylight dims,  a ripe orange glow the oil lamp emits, logs and peat crackle in the fireplace,  ember sparks cheer,  multicolour garlands of leaves cradle in the numbing wind,  a single auburn leaf dances past the window,  a scuttling dream grafts melancholic notes to the mirror of my soul.