We’ve been struck by a harsh summer, where the heat of the sun was at its maximum temperature. Thus, while it seems that we are entering the winter season, I thought of wrapping this poem in a surreal style, with a pint of mythology — which is a subject that inspires me a lot.

Gloomy Season

It is the gloomy season —
Mosses, rain, darkness 
And everything that’s cold rule 

A noir design explode in my heart
And within my veins, in my blood
Red turns into black, into night
While they whisper in my ears 
I shiver out of fear, stupefied 
As they summon beasts in my mind   

A noir design devours Helios
Trailing it three miles away 
Inside of its dimensional chariot
While the gloomy season 
Crowns the winter emperor 
With the coronal of icicles 
Clothing it of a fur coat 
And of skeletal ornaments

The mermaids chant hysterically
Summoning salty creatures,  those
That rest beside the mistress of seas —
Wars of tentacles and shimmering scales
It’s the bitter end of halcyon days 

And on wetlands the cold becomes colder
While cities go to sleep in tears
Saddened by their heartbreaks 

A noir design sets the world ablaze
In its embrace, boiling lagoons 
And trees burning. Its trees, 
Murder, she then wrote  

Shooting meteors stopped on track
They become ice to explode miles away
Shattering on earth as hailstones on roof 

It is the gloomy season —
Mosses, rain, darkness 
And everything that’s cold rule. 

Eiravel