Afternoon Tea -- Winter

Sanity slips its fragile guise
And shapes a fevered, nightmare form:
Color slithers through the sky;
Stars measure steps on Heaven's tomb;
Roiling clouds in dead men's eyes
Reflect the truth of afternoon -

Debating Passion's silent death
Despair and Lethargy take tea:
Who drew assassin's frigid breath?
Who became the legacy?

Collectors of the murderer's bill
Slide out into the spirit's blight:
Writhing worm-forms eat their fill.
As afternoon fades into night,
The pallid, fragile corpse of Will
Stirs feebly in the shadowlight.

The erstwhile dead calls strength from dark:
Embers flicker; Passion flares;
Hope burns the scavengers to spark
Against the frigid midnight air.