This Time of Year

This Time of Year

This time of year my temperature runs a little hotter...
This time of year my passions flow a little warmer...
This time of year as the darkness and the crisp air fogs the shadows of night
Something calls from deep inside
Somewhere down there in the darkness in the fog in the shadows of night

My Lover waits so patiently
Silent and still in her long repose
As I stand upon the edge of this damp dank precipice
Reaching down inside my decrepit soul

Searching for the courage to reject this urge which brings me here this time of night
My heart aches
My brain throbs
My needs screech at me like a banshee
And all of me steps forward into that darkness beyond the precipice

Into the darkness and the crisp air that fogs the shadows of night as something calls from deep inside
Somewhere down there in the darkness of the night in the dim and dank fog in the shadows of the night I go
To meet my Lover in her long repose.

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(c) 2010 MG Stough.  All Rights Reserved. 
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