Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
What day is this, what hour,
That darkness fills the sky?
Brutal, cold, damp, and brittle
Are such days of eternal gloom.
That darkness fills the sky?
Brutal, cold, damp, and brittle
Are such days of eternal gloom.
The winds howl like beasts,
Like famished wolves on the hunt.
The air is thin and very sharp,
Cutting through life like a razor.
Like famished wolves on the hunt.
The air is thin and very sharp,
Cutting through life like a razor.
If one can be still,
If one can bear the wind,
If one can stand there frozen,
The death of time can be heard.
If one can bear the wind,
If one can stand there frozen,
The death of time can be heard.
Its ticking is slowing down
Until it ticks no more,
Like the failure of a weakened,
Sickly, pale and shriveled heart.
Until it ticks no more,
Like the failure of a weakened,
Sickly, pale and shriveled heart.
Just then...what's this?
Some light breaks through,
But it only teases the senses
As the gloom laughs at the illusion.
Some light breaks through,
But it only teases the senses
As the gloom laughs at the illusion.
Foolish hope amidst hopelessness,
The laugh is dissonant,
It penetrates the soul thoroughly,
Violating any shred of salvation.
The laugh is dissonant,
It penetrates the soul thoroughly,
Violating any shred of salvation.
This day is inauspicious,
It mocks those who live,
It turns melancholy to despair,
It hollows their mortal coil.
It mocks those who live,
It turns melancholy to despair,
It hollows their mortal coil.
There is no escape from
This damnable, icy, coldness.
For the winter is approaching...
Fast approaching...always approaching.
This damnable, icy, coldness.
For the winter is approaching...
Fast approaching...always approaching.
What day finds life renewed;
What hour is free from mockery,
From the damnable, glassy grin
Of winter's solitary stare?
What hour is free from mockery,
From the damnable, glassy grin
Of winter's solitary stare?
The winds envelope the living
Like a blanket of frostbite
Eating away at the frozen flesh
And leaving behind a hardened shell.
Like a blanket of frostbite
Eating away at the frozen flesh
And leaving behind a hardened shell.
If one can await the warmth,
If one can ignore the pain,
If one can just survive,
The hope of life would still fail.
If one can ignore the pain,
If one can just survive,
The hope of life would still fail.
Just as the cycle of the seasons
Work from spring to winter
So, too, does the cycle of life
Work its way toward certain death.
Work from spring to winter
So, too, does the cycle of life
Work its way toward certain death.
Hush! Still your heart!
Silence your breathing
And you will definitely hear it,
The ringing of Winter's shrill howl.
Silence your breathing
And you will definitely hear it,
The ringing of Winter's shrill howl.
It calls us out by name,
One by one, we lose ourselves
To it's frigid, icy persona;
No longer do we breathe warmth.
One by one, we lose ourselves
To it's frigid, icy persona;
No longer do we breathe warmth.
Like an enigmatically beautiful painting,
Hung high above on a wall,
Death stares, blankly gazing,
Following the souls who lie in wait.
Hung high above on a wall,
Death stares, blankly gazing,
Following the souls who lie in wait.
Who will begin the procession?
Who will bear the burdensome weight?
Through the barren mile or so
We shall walk to our bitter end.
Who will bear the burdensome weight?
Through the barren mile or so
We shall walk to our bitter end.
© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved. Written circa 2011.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2024 08:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 35
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Comments3
Good write T.
Ahh, the weather a tad dismal?! lol.
Yes! LOL! Just a tad! Thanks so much!
The seasons of life contained in this poem. Nicely worded
Thank you so much! I am really glad the poem resonated!
Wow. You make me in my resident gloom seem almost cheerful. You are right, the cost of living is death. Pretty much all we can do is try to make the best of it, play with the cards we are dealt. Nice work here.
Wow! Thank you Dan! I truly appreciate you taking the time to read, let alone engage! Thanks so much for your reflections on the poem and I am glad it resonaged with you! Always great to meet a fellow resident in gloom 🖤💀👏
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