Blanket under the petals of white,
Fields endow on street to sight.
Strutcture beyond the Mountain God,
By frost of men that’s cold as blood.
Flags adorn by orange warmth,
Fire cede from blizzard forth.
Men of heart that’s down from luck,
Shadow strings a song it struck.
As players stand amongst the crowd,
Purpose fainted, twisted around.
Scarlet loot to sieze and claim,
Down the path from misery lane.
And humor to the narrowly souls,
Fate decrees of redundant goals.
How puppets dance by musicless tune,
A crooked smile for winter’s boon.
Here to present, the player of the game,
Down he goes…to misery lane…
Music: Footprints by coln