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While waiting for the white

like a Northern wind, winter is blowing
chilling, down my spine, cold creeping
few fluffy flakes hither and thither floating
a snap form a fairy tales is now, spinning

crooked, ebony branches, a twisted story
hanging low, the laden clouds, give a worry
over the distant hills, a dim vision, misty
and silence backgrounds all the mystery

slowly the cold clouds creep in dirge
a fiery glimmer on the west line emerges
a day slipping away with freezing urge
giving way to a white burden to surge

winter seems to have been lengthy this season
and the snow still missing, without any reason;
and still, a biting cold, the day starts to fold,
dark twilight crawls, a creepy stillness holds

snow will never be as cold as waiting
a heart torn between tears and smiling
time standing still, holding a hazy feel
waiting for a spark either to open or to seal

By truefeeling

© 2019 truefeeling (All rights reserved)


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