The fire crackles on,
And the shadows frolic with the fire,
The music swaying in the mind,
Seducing it with every flicker.
The frosty breeze,
Pacifies the senses,
As it blows through the trees,
It whispers its secret,
To the silent night.
The fervor from the fire,
Intoxicating every breath.
Like the inferno,
The hope in me still flickers,
Of something that may be,
Solitude is the only friend,
Enveloped by an ocean of unknowns,
Their vacant faces, indistinguishable,
Under the diffuse light.
The frost threatens to enter my consciousness,
But hope still remains, for it’s the fire’s will,
And just like the flames that trace my feet,
My thoughts and dreams, stabs my soul.
I’m alone, but I can’t feel the cold just yet,
The faces that surround me attain a mask-like quality,
Frozen to their favorite expressions,
For they are all playing a part,
And I still don’t know mine,
Mutely, I watch their rites and mind games,
It all feels hallucinatory, fictitious,
But it’s all the fire’s creation,
Sleep overpowers me, as the phantoms vanish in the dark,
The warmth retreats to an unknown void,
Lonesomeness has never been so terrifying, yet so consoling,
A night of paradoxes,
I battle my sleep with the intrepidness of the ancients,
And yet, I am conquered,
All I beg for, while my eyes stir of their own desire,
Is that the night have mercy on my soul.