Author’s Note

This poem was born from the quiet moments between winter’s chill and candlelight, where shadows linger and hearts search for warmth. Gothic Christmas is my meditation on light and darkness coexisting—how even in cold, silent streets, a flicker of hope can endure. It is for those who find beauty in the night, who embrace the melancholic as much as the joyous, and who believe that love and light can exist even in the most shadowed corners.

Gothic Christmas
Poetry by Rowan Evans

In the heart of winter’s embrace, 
Where shadows linger in every space, 
A Christmas tale unfolds tonight, 
In the realm of darkness, devoid of light.

The moon, a pale and distant gleam, 
Casts shadows on the icy stream. 
A lone figure roams the streets, 
Where silence reigns and coldness meets.

Gothic spires against the sky, 
Reach for heaven, where angels fly. 
But in these streets, no joyous cheer, 
Only whispers of a darker fear.

Beneath the eaves of ancient stone, 
The windswept trees their branches moan. 
Through cobbled lanes and narrow ways, 
A figure in the darkness strays.

No merry carols fill the air, 
No laughter heard, no spirit rare. 
Only the echo of footsteps light, 
Through the haunted, silent night.

But in a corner, dim and cold, 
A flicker of candle, ancient and old. 
A figure kneels in silent prayer, 
Amidst the shadows, deep despair.

For Christmas here is not the same, 
In this gothic land of ancient fame. 
But in the heart, a flicker, too, 
A flame of hope, both old and new.

For in the darkness, cold and stark, 
There beats a heart, a tiny spark. 
A whisper soft, a promise true, 
Of light and love, for me and you.

So in this gothic Christmas night, 
Amidst the shadows, cold and white, 
Let’s hold onto that flicker bright, 
And dream of morning’s gentle light.

If you’re looking for more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]