Winter in Alaska

The light is gone,
Words fall on swords;
All pawns are cleared,
Those we feared wake,
Revered now for our own sake.

Who among us
Would suspect,
Discuss; decide-
We died that day
Inside the womb where dreams play.

That endless night,
Makes low-light loud,
And sight fleeting,
Retreating, black,
Seeking there the light we lack.

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