A silent assassin in the night.
We lose sight of things once clear and bright.
A sea of white now turned to red.
All bonds of fellowship now are dead.
A twig in the snow has been snapped.
To its own state it can never come back.
In all its retaliation it fights.
All hope of humanity is fried.
YOU ARE READING
My collection of poems and riddles
PoetryThings you should know about my poetry: It is written on the spur of the moment. I write poems when I am emotionally driven. Thus, these poems are full of energy, but not necessarily with any meaning or direction. They are not grammatically correct...
