Simplest things, Dead to First

A tiny gift that bloom the rest,
Defiant the end of days gone best.
A simple leaf that dangle on branch,
All wither and pale by weather blanch.
The mournful winter that roll no pause,
Bringing a lifeless, desolate cause.
A stagnant stutter of green that sleep,
Under a wide blanket of snow so deep.


Collector: MrSuicideSheep

Music: Hiatus – Precious Little

Art: Unknown

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