December's Walls
As time doth flee like shadow into night
Though quietly, as stubborn as a steed
Which hath not met awareness to its plight
Those heels whose speed shan't yield unto the thief
November knows the bell doth certain toll
Sans stale emotion for the passing fair
Though brides of spring may tarry 'long the road
December's walls lay waste the ill-prepared
Yet preparation merely steels the gaze
For that which breathes to live can ne'er assail
And bars of iron or delicate crochets
Canst not forestall the lifting of the veil
The agony assuaged by false pretense
Enables the impaling to commence
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