Winter

The Snow falls upon the soft soil,

Sparking the beginning of my Winter,

My White Knight remains quite Loyal,

Even as his Love starts to deter.

Yet this Loyalty has been too muddled by Love,

Leaving him confused and swayed,

And in a great outburst of Passion thereof,

My Heart tore and cleaved.

Lying still and alone upon the scalding Snow,

As the whimsical wind brushes against my chilled cheek,

I am buried deep down below,

During a Winter quite bleak.

But Seasons pass,

From Winter to Spring,

From soft soil sprouts green Grass,

To forget Winter's cruel fling.

And so the scalding Snow melts,

To give room to stemming buds.

The long Winter thus ends,

Old Scars thus mends.