Furious sun has left early below the depths of horizon
Realm of the cold subsists in the bleak mid winter
Through the fluffy blanket of white snow above the soil
Frozen fat trees standing over a wild solitude
A beam of light resting on the creamy face of mist
Blowing wind piercing the bones through my rugged wool
Wind bird searching for its nest with a pair of pale eyes
Falling snowflakes hanging on my dusty earlobes
Silence ruling over the rustling sound of icy leaves
Water like a stone pushing the earth hard as gunmetal
Life is limping down the park above the valley of fear
A can of oil may get frozen before it could burn.
