Frosty chill seeps
through aching bones
in the haunting quiet,
the dead of night.
Spans of freezing white
stretch beyond me...
Will I ever see the
prettiest plum blossoms...
or is that a drop
of blood in the snow?...
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Author:
Aradhya (
Offline) - Published: July 13th, 2026 14:20
- Category: Nature
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
A light poem that has a hint of darkness. Well written
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