The freshness of Spring has faded to Winter.
Flowers that were once alive and full now froze with a passing of winter frost.
From under the pale moonlight a lonely girl walked through fine sifted snow, in a black silk dress. Her skin, as pale as the powder covering the ground.
The area is quiet; peaceful. Nothing stirs. The only sound to be heard is the soft crunch of her feet through the snow. She glides across the ground like a ghost almost as if she isn't alive.
She travels through a tall evergreen forest, trees lightly showered with the white powder. To a flowing clear blue river she goes to wash her ruby stained hands.
His crimson eyes watch her from where he stands. He saw her run away in horror where her victim lay.
On a rock, life drained from them. From blood that they have shed, their hands still remain red
YOU ARE READING
A World Of Poems
PoetryA collection of poems that I've written from experiences or feelings that I keep up inside and need to let them out. Some of them you may relate too as well. Enjoy!
