The wind grazes its frigid garnish across the countryside with placid precision.
The trees scarce in populace emit an eerie cry, purporting that of a forest, as the hoarfrost splits through their bark.
The sky emits no life as it rests in the wake of this wintry hell.
Though the sun will blemish through with its staggering rays, it reveals nothing more than the eyes white of the season.
YOU ARE READING
Seasonal Writings 2015
Non-FictionWith this I'll be writing based off the seasons. Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn (or Fall).Not so much writing stories or shorts but just descriptive writing on the environments, including where I live. Courtesy of WhiteSpiritWolf from Deviantart for...
