This fortified spirit of December’s spawn,
Have you no doubt of any other?
Surviving, what a pity for it’s no state of cheer
Oh don’t you weep sweet child
All hail now, one foot in front of the other
One golden heart tempting the faux light bearer,
She had always been something, all the more why darkness clenched for it all.
She always knew and only the few could remember
And even fewer could take action.
She had always been it all, preciously why so eagerly an eternal darkened soul pursued.
Yet, here is December
You’re the final one,
Let’s see what you’re made of sign of the archer.
May your sagittas be sharpened, may your bows be taut and may your heart remain as gilded as ever…happy new rotation around the sun to all versions of her and to all who cross her path.