The billowing Cloak searches for eternal rest

among crumbling stalks of the corn field, eternal rest

within the abandoned slaughterhouse and tourist signs, eternal rest

along silhouettes of the forest never finding eternal rest.

From the frozen lake a voice cries for eternal rest.

The billowing Cloak kneels somber, eternal rest is near

as the Cloak feels with dry fingertips, eternal rest is near

as frozen arteries bulge within the arc, eternal rest is near

as the freezing wound bleeds vigorous, eternal rest is near.

Every heart finds eternal rest; time for the harvest.