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.