I walked through woods all dressed in white, With dust of snow , my wounds felt light. A crow appeared in falling snow, Its silence chilled my heart below. It perched upon a hemlock bare, And all my hopes dissolved in air. Beneath its gaze, so cold and free, I found myself , dead, beneath the tree.
This poem is exactly the reverse of Sir Robert Frost's work Dust of Snow while in the negativity a dust of snow sparked hopes in him but for me when i was fulled with hopes something happened and i lost hopes in almost everythingπ