Winter,
most inhuman
Cruel and
cold, destroying all
Locks of
ice and chains of frost the world it holds in its grip
With cold
fire stealing our last breath
A shroud of
white, darker than the blackest pall
This bitter
mistress, harsh, unrelenting
There is no
truth greater than that
At the
centre of this still heart
As the
world sleeps beneath this frigid shroud
A mock
death; a mocking laugh
In these
manacles we are bound
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