𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗬 ᵖʳᵒˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ

The last proclamation before the brumal constellations.

I should get up; brush my teeth and wash my face.
or maybe I should stay in bed and let my time go to waste
because the man said today it is cold, with raging winds,
that the elements are gathering a storm,
says the lunar eclipse I'll surely miss
as the clouds are dancing in the skies all thick and grey;
but the man doesn't know that today life was breathed into me,
that all my aches are just growing pains.

So, my body I revive and I walk across the rains;
under the seething skies and against the piercing gales.
And I see the moon in all its glory,
still shining through the maddening haze.

Only for it to tell me that after all,
we two are one and the same.