as I march into the winter’s dawn,
the sound of my footsteps echo.
I see my face, a face long gone,
there in the motionless shadow.
you follow me, my haunting past,
as the trees whisper my name.
i’m haunted by what i felt last
you’re with me just the same.
who are you, my ghost of life,
and what have i become?
will winter return my empty strife,
as remembered, my undone?
float beside me, my forgotten soul,
as i walk to warmer days.
i have returned what you stole,
and for that i give good praise.
you tied me up, you singed my bones,
i walked through fire to see you.
a silhouette of godless moans,
of promises that never came true.
i relive the past, and wonder how
i let myself fall to emptiness.
i wonder if the cold knew now,
how it destroyed me, lifeless.
i give no beast a power there,
for i guess it was always me
that learned to rip and shred and tear,
exactly what i was built to be.
stronger now that i’ve seen blood,
and weaker that i’ve seen you,
i march through winter in the mud,
knowing death has outgrown me, too