The Sorrow of the Buried Earth

Where the autumn

Crossed beyond,

There's the winter

With its sound.

And into the foggy holt

There's the earth waiting for long

And the cloudy charged sky

Broke the air and started cry.

And he doesn't water anymore

With liquid drops coming across.

Then the speed started to slow

And from now we see the snow.

Dancing sluggish in the air

Charging up the atmosphere

We can see billions of white

Pleasing up our little sight.

And into the covered ground

Against the cold, against the sound

There are flowers tilted down

Waiting for winter's uncrown.

And the earth itself it's cold

And the pale sun it seems to bald,

Without it's rays of warming season's cold,

So the light falls in season's tomb.

And in spite of all their harm

And the world's falling down,

All those flakes are still in air

Coming down at the first tier.

So the view of ruthless snow

It's the hell of artic glow

And instead of melting ice

There's the whiteness of boundless size.