Why do I come here.
Where the frost lives.
The trees are in their fourth season.
Everything is dead, yet there is so much life in the creation.
I'm listening to the talk of Home.
It's so beautiful.
What you've done God.
I believe once you take notice in the beauty of things no one else does, you've come to know a new insight of happiness and creativity.
The limbs are something you'd see out of a horror movie, but no they couldn't be more mistaken.
My pen is dying and I'm sad.
So I guess now I'll read about the lost boys and Mr. Peter.