Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Winter...

.Winter
Air in the mystic mountains
Dry and dead cold;
Shivering and rattling bones
Of withering old;
She arrives with malice intent
Of ruthless genocide;
Her feigning of a sepulchral mourn
Sway to commit suicide;
Her enlightened face with an odious grin
Consumes all afterglow;
Spare no one from indiscriminate wrath,
She's on a death row;


'Cos she is winter
She Kills;
She is winter
Devout murderer;


Die, he shall die,
And o'er his corpse
Cold wind shall blow;
No spilt blood, just frozen marrow,
No severed flesh, just ruptured veins;
How long could he go
With his rotten and frostbitten limbs;
At last, the mighty had to fall
Once who stood tall;
Death will embrace him
Albeit the chant of vain hymn
Life surrenders to her;


'Cos she is winter,
She kills;
She is winter,
Serenely morbid;

1 comment:

  1. I really love this one, the first one as far as I can remember. Diverge. Learn. Then Learn more.

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