Winter is dying.
She thrashes around in her weak malaise.
Spewing mud in place of blood for days.
Wet and sad. we shed a tear for the great white goddess. She holds our fear as we dread the vicious beauty of the coming year. Out of her corpse daisies daffodils and dandelions offer a truce and love of better days
Spewing mud in place of blood for days.
Wet and sad. we shed a tear for the great white goddess. She holds our fear as we dread the vicious beauty of the coming year. Out of her corpse daisies daffodils and dandelions offer a truce and love of better days