The Arctic Wind (Villanelle)

An arctic wind in my direction blows. As savage grounds revolve beneath my feet. The tides grow near, I question why I rose. Such is vast nature’s never ending prose. Thou giveth, taketh, but I feel defeat An arctic wind in my direction blows. These ravaging sensations break, expose. Transcend of purpose. Which way shall I retreat? The tides grow near, I question why I rose. Drop of a tear; eternity enclose, Grave notions mend my fear, reflect deceit. An arctic wind in my direction blows. It is as is, what is? Nobody knows, Embrace the pain, it makes one’s life complete. The tides grow near, I question why I rose. Dark Fate shines clear, the rest I shall compose. The guides lie in an overpowering beat. An arctic wind in our direction blows The tides are here. I question, why I rose.

gene16180

My muse can be unseemly and nomadic although she fancies meter and good rhyme, her diligence and output are sporadic, and some may say she’s moving past her prime. At times she’s off consorting with the sages reflecting on existence, as it were, At...

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