“Winter is Coming”

Winter is coming
You can smell it in the air.
Your days are shortened
By chilled touch ensnared.
Icicle fingers wrap
Tightening their fists around
Your body until it snaps
Like so many frozen boughs.

The sun is veiled by graying skies.
The brightest spring blooms wither and die.
Northern winds cry and chill the spine.
This is the hour of your demise.

Long gone are the days
Of lasting light and verdancy.
A lonely hound bays
Lost in the snowy distance.
Silence deafens your senses
As the earth howls in fright,
And your every fiber tenses,
Trying to hold onto the light.

The sun is veiled by graying skies.
The brightest spring blooms wither and die.
Northern winds cry and chill the spine.
This is the hour of your demise.

Even as you cling to warmth,
Huddled around a diminishing hearth,
The cold seeps into your bones,
Locking you inside its icy tombs.

The sun is veiled by graying skies.
The brightest spring blooms wither and die.
Northern winds cry and chill the spine.
This is the hour of your demise.

Stevie D