Winter Beckons

When I arrived in this realm
The light was dull 
The world cold and harsh

As time passes, my estimation of mortals shifts and changes with the seasons
The phantom wails with conviction of a holy man
Reaping the reaper with self righteousness
The biblical tales these mortals revere seem to do nothing to ease their souls
Nothing to soften the dagger sharp crystals in their hearts. 

The frost of the season takes my hand and warms my face
Imparting faith to the faithless
Hope to the hopeful

There was a time Mercutio would
Like the snow I feel myself thawing
But the warmth does not leave me in Mercutio’s hands

His eyes warm another, light her face. 
I see it. 

I do not blame him
I am half what he loved 
And not what he can understand 

The ice leads me t’ward a new spring
Away from what I was
To a new growth 
And I fear what this new life could be

But I am fae
Or I was 
And mortal fear does not become me

Not yet.