on that day

on that day, his eyes lost their color, and became a baleful, ice-white mirror, reflecting all he had slain

on that hour, the ringing of his charred nerves stopped violently upon the moon's emergence from the clouds

within that minute, the moon hid itself anew, blackening itself in a starless night, never to be seen for another

in that second, the cackling crows that mocked the dead, were now silenced to death themselves, having been smothered by his wraithly gaze. They hid in shadow. They dare not consume his kill.

and in that final moment, he had lost all hope. he had lost all despair as well, for despair is no longer what he possessed; despair is all that he is.

Comments