The onset of winter

[heslopian]

Her beauty stood pale against the cold dead grey
His presence looming ever closer
His huge expanse besieged her
Casting hope into silhouette
I told you did I not Quotation marks around the speech might help. I grew confused as to who was saying what. Then again, Cormac McCarthy doesn't use them and his books are masterpieces...
His venomous lips spit as he spoke
With frost bitten hands he gripped at her throat
I am your great castigator
A malignant instrument set from on high "sent"?
Not even heaven can turn my chiding eye
I swear it now you will die
But as he spit and raged her slender beauty stood poised
Her hope seemed viscous
Even as he squeezed tighter
Draining the last of the air from her life giving lungs
She knew that after all this death would come life
So with elegant grace she gave up the fight
And the world watched on in silence to the death of a flower

I must admit, when I read the first line I thought this would be another generic tortured love poem, but on reading further it reveals itself as something much more troubling and strange. The woman's submission to her evil assailant for the sake of transcendance has a religious quality to it, in the way an action which destroys also somehow creates. I guess you could also read sadomasochism into this narrative.
The poem's presentation is sometimes clumsy, but shot through it is a haunted vein of darkness, cruelty and redemption. It's very good. All critique is JMHO, of course. Thanks for the read.