Reflections Upon a November Snow

I.
The skies gathered close
atop our bitter world that night
as you spent your first away
From me, because of me, because of you.
Because of a love we created,
but never learned to grow.
Because darkness loomed closer in your skies
than ever I knew.
Because your ideals betrayed your wishes.
Because you never knew beauty could
be dark, and still be pure.
Because you thought I'd never understand.
Because I understood more
than I ever let you know.
Because of all the things that should have been,
but never were
My tears were silently falling that night
on a fresh November snow.

II.
Somewhere below heaven,
and yet above hell,
a magical equation of both of their ecstasies
and both of their sorrows
matriculates endlessly within our hearts.
Our hearts beat out rhythms which pump our brains
to fresh ideas that move
our bodies to action
to satiate our hearts' desirous thirst.
Our hearts breaking hearts
with every single beat.
We live to please ourselves
and another chosen few,
Never knowing whose list we're on,
Guessing only by their actions.
Not concious of if x has changed,
or why.

III.
August breeze whispers heavy air across my musings.
The sky is immense and endless,
but hidden by the heat pregnant haze.
I want to sleep now
so I may greet the arriving day,
but anxiety wraps me wholly in an unyielding blanket.
Too hot for days,
Too tired for nights.
I am a slave working for
too demanding a master
to ever take my rest.

Letting go. If only I were letting go.
Letting go of the heat.
Letting go of the rhytms of your heart.
Letting go of the ecstasies and the sorrows
offered to me in this place
not quite Heaven,
and all too close to Hell.
Letting go of the tears I so recently shed
on a fresh November snow.