Snow
Soft and white, light and full of beauty.
They are the snow drops, perfect in everyway.
All uniform, all monochomatic, all the same.
I am not of this snow, I am another creature.
I am not the pure white snow, I am not the color blue of purity.
I can never be these things, for I am another creature.
A being who had no purpose, save to stain others with their sins.
I am not a pure snow drop. I can never be so.
I was once a being of joy and light.
A being who knew all doors were open th themselves.
No longer do I see the world as a happy, carefree land.
No longer am I of the snow.
Snow is naturally blue in hue, for it is the purist form it comes in.
White snow is tainted. White snow cast grey shadows across the land.
They flitt and flutter down to earth regardless, and the living can only watch.
For they are not of the snow. But I am not of their world.
I was once part of the snow, I was once pure and blue.
No longer do I flitt and flutter with grace and elegance.
No longer do I retire after a long decent.
I am not of the snow or the living. I am another being.
I pay tribute to those who laugh,
To those who look at me as if I were a feind.
For I am no longer of the snow. But my heart remains of it's first ice.
They cursed my soul, my feefall.
Soft and white, light and full of beauty.
They are the snow drops, perfect in everyway.
All uniform, all monochomatic, all the same.
I am not of this snow, I am another creature.
I am not the pure white snow, I am not the color blue of purity.
I can never be these things, for I am another creature.
A being who had no purpose, save to stain others with their sins.
I am not a pure snow drop. I can never be so.
I was once a being of joy and light.
A being who knew all doors were open th themselves.
No longer do I see the world as a happy, carefree land.
No longer am I of the snow.
Snow is naturally blue in hue, for it is the purist form it comes in.
White snow is tainted. White snow cast grey shadows across the land.
They flitt and flutter down to earth regardless, and the living can only watch.
For they are not of the snow. But I am not of their world.
I was once part of the snow, I was once pure and blue.
No longer do I flitt and flutter with grace and elegance.
No longer do I retire after a long decent.
I am not of the snow or the living. I am another being.
I pay tribute to those who laugh,
To those who look at me as if I were a feind.
For I am no longer of the snow. But my heart remains of it's first ice.
They cursed my soul, my feefall.
