Shadows drape your secrets, unforgiven, As the wind howls, Its presence unraveling at the edges. A once unbroken promise— if I’m not mistaken— of the lunar solstice, and its unyielding mistress.

There’s a tremor in its deflection, rising, then sinking, in the translucence you once rejected. To be heard, you asked— but never understood; a moment for its transgressions.

For now, her shadows soften, a hush before the silence, beyond the casket you reside in, a sleepless interruption.