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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1113540
Under the ever-prescent eye in the sky...
As I close the door behind me I walk out into the pure whiteness of the season. The ground sparkles, inviting me to walk. But my feet stay routed to the ground. The trees hang heavy, branches laden with powerful snow. For a brief moment below me something stirred. Some rustling came from the bushes. Then all fell silent, and stillness fell back over the world.

A chilling breeze ran through my soul. The branches of the trees shook and crumbled. I began to walk.

Under my feet the ground began to give way. Each step crunched louder than the one before. The pure landscape was shattered. Above me the sky was clear. All eyes in space were upon me. Over seeing them all was the great watcher. The blue December moon glared down on me. Waiting for me to slip on the icy ground.

I could not walk any more. Silence had fallen over the land, and an erie uneasiness had filled me. As if to push me on the chilling wind returned. I ran to escape its torment.

I slipped under a tree. Sheltering from the evil season. Making no move my breath formed patterns in front of my face. The shapes filled my mind, as high above the heavens still watched me. Burning through the branches of my sanctuary. I heard a sound above me. My eyes filled with the falling snow as through the frozen cobwebs was revealed, the cold Decenber Moon.

I had walked this way so many times before, yet I found myself lost. I could not find the way through the words swimming in my head. Pushed on by the glowing beads in the blackened sky I knew what I had to do. This task had to be fulfilled.

I turned the corner, my shadow flew infront of me. I stood for a second, looking back. My footprints disappeared into the distance. The path home was clear. Yet I could not turn back, as the track was guarded. No easy way out now, no escaping the cruel December Moon.

I march on. Ahead of me lies a pool of light. Nothing I can do now... I cannot hold back. The sky urges me on. I pull my hand from my pocket as I reach your door. My fingers clenched in a fist. I prepare myself as the door opens. Light spills out over the cold harshness of my actions. The fierce December moon reflects in your tears.

As I realise the full extent of my legacy I turn and face away from what I have done. The deed is over. I retrace my footsteps. Muttering that word to myself. I pass through time and space. Light flashes around me, from the ground, from the trees, from the ever present December moon. Treading backwards I see the light slip from your eyes. The clouds have shielded the heavens from me.

At last I am free from the full December moon.

Quietly I walk back to my door. Snow begins to fall as I leave the warm glow of your home. Its cosey tones and yellow generosity will never darken my ways again. As I turn the corner and look ahead of me, along my gently covered tracks, a parting appears in the looming clouds. A genle light daples my way.

A blue glow shows me the way home, across empty fields and still rivers. And still I think of what I have done. What I have done tonight, and what I have done before. Maybe now I have rid myself of this deamon, maybe now I can live my life, away from my previous state of limbo. Away from the watchful eyes of the world.

I walk up through my garden. No sound remained. I thought of you, all those miles away. Too far to talk to now. My keeper in the sky now hung low, threatened with extinction. For a moment a birds song cracked through the crisp stillness. Until a breaking twig beneath my foot frightened it off. Tomorrow I shall leave this place. I stopped in my tracks; with these final thoughts.

Just once more I shall utter those words I said to you...
"I'm sorry!" I cried out, to the blue December Moon.
© Copyright 2006 Dave S Skinner (davesskinner at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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