Season of Ends

[Maria B.]

His night will soon come to an end.
Stainless steel slices islands of streetlights and more:
warm flesh, skin too thin to be considered
an obstacle. And even death is nothing,
a sigh in the hazy winter air,
an imperceptible prayer to no one.

The blade slices his last trembling victim,
and she bleeds all over the dark sky.

 

[Mersennus1951]

His night will soon come to an end.
Stainless steel slices islands of streetlights and more:
warm flesh, skin too thin to be considered
an obstacle. And even death is nothing,
a sigh in the hazy winter air,
an imperceptible prayer to no one.

The blade slices his last trembling victim,
and she bleeds all over the dark sky.

I don't know why, but this particular poem conveys a certain comforting, nocturnal warmth amidst its coldness. I like the last line.