Isolde.

Above the atmosphere; I sit and wait.
The game is played
The jester is set up for a gig.
A royal engagement with a just dessert.
Time winds down and history is lost.

The sun sets over the canyon
A beautiful sight for sore eyes.
Sore from images of pain and regret.
Depression sinks like a stone in a lake.
The sun sets.
I am above it.
I must will it so.
I am above it.
I am.

Spring's pink eye gleams over the countryside. The panicked breathe of winter sighs a final time.
My dear Persephone. Return to me.
Hell hath burdened you so.
Hell hath burned you with his cold arms.