Hemlocks scattered by the wind's hand
holds the winter, far away in a land
somewhere, lost in time, lost for time
...where is still cold… forever
where the distant glitter calls the white snow
to be his fair bride, being together
Old stones and poisoned weeds,
walls of entwined trees
beholds in captivity such beauty, but
Whom is the guardian?
Whom is the prisoner?
Love enjoys its Shakespearian plays and ways
A web of diamond dew freezes, weaves little crystals,
that both of them wear instead of skin, gentle veils
hiding their names in layers of lazy weather
brighter, lighter as an angel feather
dancing between sky, land and sea
everything that breaths up North is white
Untamed golden nightingales tune their tales
forgotten by the evening stars
they sing... words unspoken
by any other creature like myself
pale pilgrim that seek the moon in the dark night
with no voice to scream... just cry and cry...
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