Winter is a vengeful lady,
Whose soul is cold and hard,
She demands the most of others,
In March her life's disbarred.

She's a desperate surviver,
Well aware of what her truth is,
She must retreat and hide,
Blind to what spring's bliss is.

So little of life is static,
So much a lifeless fire,
Though she strives to survive,
In springtime, she'll expire.

In spring her will is broken,
In time, she'll know her place,
Like the mirror of a blind man,
She'll reflect a useless face.

To her, springtime is toxic,
Though the air is poison-free,
And everything's a fairy tale,
Spring is her time to flee.

While others feel warm joy,
Spring is her dying time,
Revealing her awful truth,
Uncovering her wintertime crime.

Spring becomes her vampire,
That upon her soul descends,
Her death, a scary shadow,
That everyone defends.

In springtime, she will pass,
In spring she goes away,
But when warmth wands again,
She'll return to claim the day.

24 Lines

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