In My Dark Sanctuary

If only I could drown my sorrows
In the silence of the night;
So immense, so
Illimitable, that it looms ahead -
Deafening.

These are secrets that unveil themselves
In the sanctuary of the dark.
Uncoiling, incessantly disgorging
Vitriol. But I am snug and warm enough
In my blanket of duplicity.

My ears are numb with hollows
Ringing deep from earth's sepulchers.
And I feel the rhythm in my bones, of
Napoleon's dead soldiers marching
Through the infecund land of wintry Russia.

But the dead are unaware of the cold -
They died from it.