It’s the most dead time of the year (18th hour) prompt

Outside, empty, still branches


too brittle and too frigid to last.

Meanwhile, indoors

a massive tree decor takes over your room.

We light our every possessions to serve as a contrast

to the stone, get in your bones cold.

We fill our cups with heated chocolates and bourbon too.

We sing songs of yore, watch movies of compassion

try to keep our spirits bright, light, and high

for tomorrow will fasten

(much faster than expected).

We cry, we laugh, we shed our angsts away

we tell tales of ghosts and reindeer.

As we try to fill our souls with brand new goodies.

It’s the most deadest time of the year.

Oh well, at least there are cookies.



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