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Winter Storm
Seasons fleeting by,
Winter now at hand.
Soft flakes of snow
Fall lightly to the ground.
Trees swaying to and fro
Covered with these pale white flakes.
Wind whipping past
So bitter and cold is the night.
The sky darkens and pours out its armies
Ice shards hailing down upon the earth.
Pure white engulfs the ground
Forming ice tundras from plains.
And when the rain comes, so do lightning and thunder
Splitting branches and strewing them asunder.
The night passes and out from the dawn
Bursts a silent ray of hope.
But the hope is vanquished, and the storm progresses.
For in winter
There is no
Hope.
Ari Gilder
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