A lost love from so long ago, buried by the winter’s cold blistery snow. With no where to run or quarters to hide, left frozen in history, buried in time. And the metaphors they wrote to describe how they feel; as the parables grew deeper, leaving their fate sealed. As the years went on, the pain grew less deep, slowly receding and how the tears they would weep. So wheel in the batten, shake down the walls, take hold of your destiny and what the future unfolds. Rise to this day, awaken your heart, and let the cool thoughts of autumn bring a new start. Flip threw the pages, one page at a time; sift threw the sand, uncover the shrine. Tales of doom, and text of old; majestic white castles and mountains of gold. Embrace the gloom and the winter’s cold; take hold of your destiny, let this future unfold.
Copyright © 2005 Mark Ross
