Hush, dont cry, winters here.
Tis time to fall, time to sleep.
When the blankets fall, cold an warm,
No more thaw, only ice and storm.
When fires truly warm, and ice truly chills,
Your bones crackling, broken,
Cradled, open.
Hush dont cry tis time to die,
Like all, till spring again.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
