The Night's Game.

Capered shadows, slunk nearest the rubble's edge,

Hera's veil of black does blanket the skies.

Viscous poison, fumes of the decay beneath the ground;

weeping souls wail, bemoaning their eternal torment.

Cernuous willow's tendrils break obsidian waters,

reflections of phantom wraiths beckoning bone-like claws.

Enticing invitation, a promise in perpetuum; forever.

The hourglass foreshowing of the lasting time; nearly gone.

Contours distinguished, phantom figures dancing

venomous fangs sunk into the flesh of reality

a step closer, abiding whispers of cajoling voices.

Eternal murmur, promises yet to keep to those kept.

The remnants of Artemis', pale glow within the skies.

though soon will Apollo's fingers lift the conceiling night.

Only eternally will the darkness remain; imprisoned.

Pixie-like innocence luring, entrapping within taloned hands.

Frost bitten winds seek warmth; a serpent of glacial ice.

Undying flames, coursing through the shell of prey,

infernal ticking, a soundless clock heard by deaf ears.

Endlessly, the fight ensues, never to be won. 

At last does light sear away tainted shadow,

shades vanished before the sun, caterwaul of ire.

Upon yellowed grass lie the cadaver of a fool, 

ensnared within the dead's embrace; the night has yet to lose.