In the Beginning

Taunting Winter's became the seasons in life, for most of us Various their storms have proudly brewed; running As fast as we can within tiny circles, we have thus so ran Innocent precious babies; oftentimes, these little eyes Flowing with salty tears; if in fact but a metaphor could bleed ? It's myriad of somber moments; about as around our heart's Spiraling these rains; drenched aneath such pain; they say That two wrongs never make a right; fires which beget flames Burning swords still melting amid, timeless hands... Battle cries, calling unto shadows bent; falling upon stained knees.