We approach the eve of December, the end of another dark year
The moths I can't find nor remember, my dark cloak is thinning and sheer
My lights are all lost or sequestered, my mind is palsy and seared
Yes, my moths made an exit by moonlight, while my heart has fallen on fear
Find me frozen in the midnight, imbibing on all of our years
Memories stronger than moonshine, I spin as December looms near
Moths dancing with gladness, when this darkness wasn't so drear
First of the month full of magics, and: "happy anniversary my dear."