January Night Poetry

He impaled you with tender wisdom
infused with the madness of ill gain
towards the light you danced a death frame
hanging like your childhood swing.

In droves they fled the city
their footprints indented in the sands of time
you sought desperately in your hourglass
a fragment
of dark vanity

Now fly raven,
towards the haunted
for the golem sits and waits in stone.
carved by the craftsmen
the veins planted creep on legs
choking your fragility

So you spat like the witches who wept
into their cauldron
stirring up death passion
that drove you to the fall
dying into the first light of autumns arms
we laughed like kindred falling
into the hubris of the sun