I can hear the choral voices singing and shouting, both in angst as well as in rejoice for what has now begun – the end of an Advent. Time is moving fast yet in a fragile fashion during these remaining fleeting moments, I can feel the static within this cold night air as the hours march closer and closer to the end of this line – as the last of the hourglasses tips further and further towards spilling out final fates – fates that I will inevitably have to accept as my own once the time comes. I can see the look in their eyes when their glance catches mine, I can see their face begin to shift when I speak words from my mouth, for they know all to well that it’s almost over – they can see that I am spiraling down below, changing eternally from under.

I can sense the houses, charging their warmth in their bay’s. For during those final hours that they sleep within their houses, fates and shadows alike will tug and pull, yearning for a moment of release, yearning to guide me to my grave. We are within the moments of an Advents end, a time where like all things are held still – yet every sound, very thought, every birth and every death can be sensed from the core. I can see the fires begin to blaze for even they are aware of the essence of time that remains to us know. And I can see the watching of the lords above, for their are both full of sorrow and grace alike that such things must be set into motion – that such things must come to an end in this way.

 Solace and peace are forgotten concepts during these darkest of nights, for while I may know that there is no war here left to fight, and while I know that all that was once held dear has been lost, as well as all what had once been loved – my mind still rapidly searches, endlessly, throughout the deepest crevices of the night, for a life or a line that could be always what I had dreamed. To tread onward’s into a line never meant for me would be to forever bare the weight of these tragedies for an eternity, to in a sense, marry to the grave and the darkness alike – a stagnant fate that I am not sure I wish to bare. My heart grows painfully silent during these remaining hours of this dying line, and my mind – much louder than it has ever been before. For thoughts of remorse, regret, hope, and darkness alike will be the death of me.