Acedia
The waning Winter light, candles and their ever-long human shapes (Mirrored- hollowed.).
The season is the beast I am weaker than that sharpens it's talons.

Thoughts pull me apart so very delicately.
I am awash in memories and decay- rage collapsing inwards.
Unfurled by all the hours, the reprise of sleep.
The ebbing tears with the side-cast face in the falling snow.

This forced exposure,
this air in my lungs, this knowledge, this sight, this want, this movement, this love...

Stop them.
Leave me here... . -Lance Binkle