Sing in the brittle tree tops my despair
making sweet your melody to winter's song
try to be hard at the spring of March
make stupor merry to your seasons end

Fantastic your endeavours turn mild winds
all you did makes us more sullenly pure
they know, I know you really hate that
and in your reality death comes once every year

Make blooms the crescent of despair
be sure that the most in northern exposures
wish that they never had the bite of you
even the back lands Kind Town, Nova Scotia



By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris