A dark winter night of the soul

A bed of snow gently lays
upon the ground of this winter night.
Peaceful, calm, beautiful.

The pure white sits untarnished
from the next days rummaging.
A still, all encompassing beauty
floats upon the chilled air.

A different chill
than the iciness of my heart.
An undisturbed serene
stark contrast to the violence
and agitation in my soul.

What was once white
Is now tarnished by bruises
from years of thrashing into the darkness.

The night is no darkness
Compared to my soul,
and yet I feel the pure snow falling,
the beautiful white accumulating.

No longer outside, but in.
In me, there is still purity.
Hibernating beneath
the cold, calm snow
lays a dormant rose.

Soon will be the spring time,
Passion and purity erupting to the surface
Of this frozen ground.

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