And yet, with Summer come and gone,
Winter casts its desolate shadow too soon;
Who knew Death to be so beautiful
and placid
(shamefully so).
Who knew Death to be so bold
and impartial
(willfully so).
Who knew Death to be so cold
and cunning
(painfully so).
And so, with each a shadow cast,
Winter - I’ll find within
Something to end my desolate shadow too.