Winter
Icy crysals floating down;
So innocent, so pure.
Covering the cold barren ground
With a layer of frozen elegance
And false comfort.
Concealing the lifelessness,
Dusting the comatose trees
With an illusion of vitality.
Branches jut out at the sky,
Clawing, struggling
For that last bit of warmth.
Innocent little flakes descend,
Enveloping the sickly talons
Under the smothering blanket.
Primped and powdered corpses,
Stiff and dead
But beautiful.
Icy crystals floating down;
So innocent, so pure.
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