FOREVER WINTER
- Dark Poets Club
- Sep 11
- 1 min read
By D. E. Johnston
The woods display a chilly light
when blanketed in icy white.
In sleep, they portend
the silence of eternal night.
But still, we hasten.
The harbinger of our last breath,
the cold of ineludible death,
Fate does await us.
Life, it speeds to the River Lethe.
Time is treasonous!