Winter کے بول

Winter I call forth the cold The coming signs of winter Black hands raised to the sky Silhouettes of trees with no more leaves Growing on their long lean twigs Soul mirrors showing me A shadowed face Waters - frozen and rugged, unmoved Cloth, white, is falling Snow from the sky Hiding the face of the earth Thousand daggers piercing my skin Winds from the north, alone in the skies I call forth the cold The coming signs of winter Ravens seem to be the only Life beside me - suddenly They cover my sight to the horizon Blood becomes ice Flesh becomes rock I call forth the cold The coming signs of winter