Withered Reflections

Heinous the crime consuming all time

With pacing steps and blundering mind

I searched a cold winter for living splinter

A child so vile my soul he did hinder

A child I say! who caused my dismay

On highest peaks and on blissful day

The weathered face of a man of age

Though figure petite and eye of rage

When frost did serge from home I heard

A rustle of flake before he emerged

Standing he stared as mist filled the air

He did not move as I rose from my chair

Why do you stalk and stand and stare?

The boy had but vanished in fog so rare

I know not why, or how, or where

But muffled footsteps strolled my lair

Tis but the wind that howls in the night

Never that boy, though perhaps it might

Tis but a boy, he bid you no harm

but his eyes they glisten like mystical charm

The thuds grew louder and quicker in pace

Something approaching no visual trace

Be gone from this place you ghastly fiend!

My voice it did tremble as I viciously screamed

A blustering breeze flung my door ajar

Casting voices from near and afar

My heart it thrust upon my chest

The boy he stood as I peered in detest

The ruffled hair and prominent poise

A wretch of old thought withered, destroyed

The boy he looks to me the akin

Past be present, malevolent sin

The End

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