Little King of Sorrows


A victim of the moment


As the winter moon reflects upon the icy river valley,
a soul searches the darkness of his own mind,
where the water of life and resource once flowed abundant,
has frozen over with the changing of the seasons.
A victim of the moment.

The trees, naked and transparent, fall prey to the ever-changing winds,
even among the protection of its own kind, still portrays a lonely and lifeless chill,
far from the summer breeze that tickled it's leaves with joy and meaning,
it hibernates, standing firm through the course of time that gives it's inner-rings stature and age.
A victim of the moment.

Traces of wildlife traversing the snowy wasteland illusion upon the watery depth below,
leaving it's own imprint of it's journey behind while never revealing its purpose and outcome,
but a reminder that to have a purpose, is divine, even when understanding is not found, still worthy,
I cannot help but wonder and pray, no tragedy met this creatures way, leaving it to become,
A victim of the moment.

And as the nights and days intertwine in this vast and endless ocean of life,
A reminder that even as the warmth of a summer day provides it's want not care not rays of joyous bliss, there too is a beauty to behold in the stinging blackness of winter twilight. And though cursed by many with lips of woeful distain, I choose to soak up the whole of it's content. For just around the icy bend, lies a place for hope to spring.
A victim of the moment.

© 2013 L.K.Sorrows

Submitted: Friday, January 25, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, March 12, 2013

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