The voice of the wind is harsh, unending, bringing news of winter. Under dusky grey I watch the heavens close in as tree bones rattle with last leaves. Night is everywhere, penetrating with howling visions the sanctity of sleep.
Solitude is impossible. Chanting surrounds me, invisible hands, the edge of a nightmare hovering on the threshold. Ghostlike it travels through the streets, knocking on each door, finding the cracks in each soul, rearranging the molecules of each defense. No prayer or good luck charm repels the chosen path of this bleak pilgrim. Its faceless form looms like a black hole.
A cacophony of silence tunnels into the center of my mind. It asks me no questions, desires no answers–an insatiable voice in a vortex ancient, eternal, lost.
forsaken, stars hide–
sky fallen into stillness
swallowing the moon
For the Earthweal Weekly Challenge, A Hallowed Moondance.