The Winter Woman


She asked a question
Yet didn’t believe the answer
Crossing her worlds together
One of truth
One of wanting
What was she left with?

Her faith in the river
Left her feeling the earth
A scar held lifelessness in her eyes
To deep to see
Transcending into the willow tree of her heart
Icy branches, a fair soul

To broken to shatter
A softness that would continue to grow colder
An artic rose forgotten
All that was left of her crimson lips
Was the kiss
Forever frozen and made to linger

Once touched
Always touched
Had she only forgotten
Perhaps she could have once again breathed
Her lover gone
She was still here

Had she become the winter?
Not even a shivering memory
Not even a swan of moonlight
Paler than pale
More frigid than stone
A wilted grave begotten by the water

If only she had seen
The indifference of her lady’s heart
Her pain would not have been real
Her angelic frost
Consuming the river
Now lost within the thought of her lover’s face
Two words described her:

Death & Grace.

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