Gates closed. Their unsettled thrashing cried throughout the rifting chambers of my burrowing incessancy. Jubilant, the minions that trotted the stern underground of the damned and wretched! I must say in all giving passivity that you have won. Take my lover and his cloth that bread tears like a draft towards the middling sea. And when you are done take me there! With gold and wrappings of hidden absurdities that one and only one could hold.

Come back to me! The words, no they are useless. A passing of time tis only their meaning in the aberrancy of waning hours. How I remember so. Countless days and nearing nights were suppressed only by your endearing touch. The endless countenance that a lone creature could give was only a trace of your benevolence.

When a beggar had become a king for the queen the lovely death throes of romance would surely rest upon his skin as a savage drawn to his own beauty. His soft and gentle draping of his inner garment were that of knight clothed in glass armor. Shielded, he was, but immune he was not. From his destrier riding to lands unknown and dreams never dared he kept the fragile fold beneath his grasp so tight.

Avaunt my pleading hands! Avaunt my dying day! For tis the night does not condemn us and as my palms reach towards the still and untouched darkness…he does not beg. The sky frowns and sinks his head for tis another day there in my hollow garden naught of light and of love. I am waiting for the vitreous figure striding through my valleys and untraced smiles of theft to come save me.

It was of near December when the woods were thinning and preparing their wallowing barks to sufferance. The tidings of whispers traveled throughout stilted wonders and then they had succumb their faint smiles to him. As a'neath the grace of the gating sky we hid. The chambers of the suppressed sky had given up. Dawn was so near yet so far away from this season. No one, not even the meadows that lashed their beauty in frozen resplendency were not fretting this hour when he would appear.

"I am a disgrace!," he started to shout as we sat aside a fading fire in the lamenting woods. "A failure to this world! So closed their words and demeans by the malice in which they strike. Hit me and punish me you may, but your frivolous actions will not prove worthy to him. Only will the graves beneath him comfort his incessant madness and tangling, oh the manacles! My wrist had once bled for your eyes to stop their nearing exposure, but no! Not now will my heart belong in your unyielding hands so close and near the awaiting night! He will prevail and indeed he will suffer. But only out of his sorrow will the trees and the vacant pond be twined within a dynasty of his love. A frozen beauty of his travailing. A tear only produces the greatest enamor of us, the single remnant left behind . For when the casket calls, his unheeding voice will indeed play the most lovely dirge. For me and for us love!"

As he finished his last words I held his frosted hands. His breath bled of a world that would never accept him. Winter! Oh, my Winter is shunned by humanity. And Autumn is just a lie between the Spring (tis its calling saves of winter) and Summer (tis the time of holy embers lighting the sky and nurturing the flowers). I grasp and unleash this untamed beast. For when my time ends soon begins his. My death followed by his birth and soon his body in my case. Wait now the sun! Draw your entangled image again throughout the sky and save him…save me.

The sun would not appear. And soon the darkness took over as I lied beneath his emptiness and the time where he would die. His death would be not brought by the cold and despair that he held already, but rather by the world of the others. He promised that he would come to me. In the endless nights (and in my silent refuge) he would lay aside me waiting for his time.

And so of the day when it closed its doors and beneath its lock he unopened laid. I had lain in my coffin resting of peace and of time. When his unfurled feathers caught their unending thine had already died. In somber stillness and fraught unseen he cascaded the single season on my dead body, nourishing my unclosing wounds. Soon and in his joy the Winter of dread passed by its void and woe. For finally his bescreen'd and tired body laid with mine. And there we awaited the next season and season after until we would have to come again. Leave the wonder of death and his barren heart and come a'neath the risen sun to haunt her of her light again.

This winter was different though. As I and my life ended I waited for his to come, but I only saw a raven. In the darkening leaves and throughout the crimson sky the raven flew. Abreast my unsleeping figure and towards my heart he flustered undearing. I watched his feathers so pure in white near the ashen of his night. Winter would not come.

I ran towards him and held the bird in my hands. He would only sing with a wail of his lovely sinning. I heard Winter's voice trace his words in my head. "I cannot return to your awake. My love, my time has ended. I cannot go on. They destroyed all that I had the last season…This world has no place for me. I wanted you to see me for what I was and not what I have been. In this form, a bird like me is welcomed just as you perched me upon your hands and just like now as I die within them. My death will not be mourned, but my season will still persist. In their world let this time decide and punish them as they punished me. For when you hear the wind and he echoes a gentle sigh…let that be of me. And when the earth lays frozen a'neath my requiem…it is of thee. For when the world hid and tore at my belied figure so they tore at us. They will not be welcomed into our world. Let them live with their jolly gaiety and let us live within our tears. For they are the most beautiful entity that we have created…"

And just as his words silenced the raven emitted in the flames of a summer sky and slept within the heart of an autumn death…