Dirge for November

Lost! Here is nowhere, searching home still. Turning past me, all are gone. Time is now! The omen showed, took me away. Preparations are done, this can't last. The mere reflection brought disgust, no ordeal to conquer this firm slit. It sheds upon the floor, dripping into a pool. Grant me sleep, take me under. Like the wings of a dove, folding around, I fade into this tender care.