Winter- A poem

Written and as told by Windchaser Rhode

Winter

Winter's come at last to see
I hold it in my grasp.
Forever, in my Mind, to see
How long this Death will last.

Gazing passed the snow-blanket Pines
Will wishful thinking Hear
My Love's own aching arms that cry
When Life goes on, not near.

Unto the darkened days of Yore
Unto the ladened Wastes of Pain
Of out the ghastly wails that cry
Does Death's door swing and sway.

"Who can cheat me?" cries Death himself.
"Who knows not what to bring?"
A gift of darkened path to Walk
until the day comes Spring.