Friday, February 18, 2005

Always

Barren here lays this hostile land,
few were who survived
Last was the blow of winter’s hand,
as harsh winds blew through time

It raged they say ’twas furious,
the livid night of last cold
Mourn for who were curious,
who slipped into winter’s hold

No more is her reign here,
The dark, lethal lady of storm
Mortals live, now no fear
The bright one takes her form

She burns with radiance,
Swiftly lit, so bright is everything
Beauty, life and end to winter
Shy is she, the one named Spring