When peace leaves, ever setting as winter he bitterly tosses all chance beneath her sun, howling madly while he pins her mean like a crazy raver with claws sheathed.
What might to live steadfast in raging fire! Pleading peace and fractions of smoky clouds up after three, dogged she loves through ire unrepentant, refusing to be cowed
while he looses logic bared of reason-- thunderous icicles with poisoned tips cut fully in form ill-timed to seasons of babies, bills, dogs, cats and sinking ships.
She whispers welcome to the stormy breach wholeheartedly, forever out of reach.