Mirth in Murk.

The clouds blind the covetous eyes
Together, we spotted the old willow from afar.

As darkness wrapped our souls
Numbed fingers held out seeking shelter from the frosty deluge
And, neither of us wished for incandescence.

The clouds continued to hover over our fragmented selves
Hoping to devour all that we have,
" Pity", cried the ominous bird, "they cannot see through the dark"
In agreement, the wind gusted past our blinded selves.

"Murder", cried the kind hearted fox.

And,
Through the hours of murk,
Little did the pleasure of bleak vicious fervor dampen my spirit
As the broken willows entwined his crumbling marrow.