brokenbullets

The Tragedy of Winter Solstice

The full moon rises,
It's light reflecting off crimson snow,
The Crow caws thrice in sympathy,
Upon the scene below,
A maidens hands stained with blood,
She kneels tearfully over the man she loves,
His eyes are dull and dead,
His spirit now free to depart,
Given flight by the cruel cold dagger,
Which he laid rest into his heart,
What sadness he hath bestow,
Such Bitter, Bloody, Irony,
This Tragedy In Snow