Bitter crimson engulfs the sky,
Scattering the spectrum forth.
The sun sets out yonder as
Birds whisper to their hatchlings,
Tomorrow will come before dawn.
Willows wrap around their trunks,
Shivering from the coming cold
Of the wind, barely whispering,
There is rarely solace in goodbye.

Snow falls, leaving your footprints
Upon the barren field of
My frozen heart that weeps.
Time cannot fill the void you left,
Emptied by your departed soul.

Frost devours the stemm’ed
Requiem that grows before you
With a darkened sky, speckled with white,
As a shooting star sends me home.