• Winter

    Comments Off on Winter
    February 11, 2016 /  Writing

    All must die-
    So I am told-
    And death appears
    As creeping cold.

    Fiery leaves,
    defiance bold;
    They quake in wind,
    they lose their hold.

    Color flees, and
    Flowers fold;
    silver steals
    The place of gold.

    The last of warmth
    And life is sold;
    An aging world
    Is become old.

    Posted by Ariel le Orban @ 3:05 am