Into The Eve

Under the moon she stood, the perfect sculpture.
Her frame crafted a stone pale.
The cold clung restless as the sun hid behind blackened clouds,
the warmth taken as the season grasped the surge.
Flickering lights enchanted the moment as carols broke through the silence.
Her feature standing dark within the maze of fiction.
The faint sound of rain began in the moments effect
and as the storm hovered it lingered in mystic.
This crafted delicacy then breathed an essence like non other,
while a Christmas whisper allowed her to step, into the Eve.