PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Chionophobia, it Still and I See Them Rāw

I can’t wait,
for the coming snows......
To cleanse my soul....
I trade, in times, of secrets.....
Of the deeds, of the dead.
With only those, who knows.
When grey skies, turn black.
And winters chills, call....
It’s the devil, who’s ....
Trying to claim, your soul.
While the skies change, again.
Black to grey, and then, to bluish white.
Snowflakes swirl.....
Like the screams, of the dying.
They envelope your body, and stick.
Drowning out reality.
Soaking lashes, blinding all who see.
Draining life.
I’ll always remember.
Each time, it snows.
Snow ......cladding, corpses...
Lying there
Row