H1

In the dying snow,
One can only surely step,
Where no one else has.

"Eyes Like Black Coals In The Snow".

As the snow covers the leaves long shed,
By skeletal statues of trees undead,
Gaia hides the death and the decay,
Whilst laughing children come out to play.

The slender divide, pristine purity,
An inch thick between a foot and the shite.
A million unique kisses heaven sent,
A half day distraction from endless blight.

To draw breath is to draw pain, to suffer,
To live, to survive, and decidedly die.
And kisses hang like snow covered corpses,
immaculate imitations of blissful life.