{ t h e . swan ::--}

[>>BLACKiE! ]}]

A poem I just put together randomly. :]

The Swan
As delicate flakes of frozen liquid,
Begin to descend from the sky,
The world is wrapped in a cold,
In which a bird cannot fly.

The white bird is trapped in this frigid land,
Unable to shift around,
It will have to wait around for now,
Until spring warms the ground.

But spring does not come,
Oh, no, it cannot,
For the harsh winds rage on,
And no warmth is brought.

The other birds are gone,
All safely flown away,
Melancholy thoughts creep,
And the bird goes astray.

And then finally! Suddenly!
Without a doubt,
Spring is here,
And will not drop out!

The river flows freely,
The creatures come once more,
Flowers are up and out,
And sunshine knocks on my door.

And then that white bird,
That elegant thing,
Opens its beak, and,
Oh! Begins to sing!

The notes are crystal clear,
But this song is one of crying,
You’ve all heard that when a swan sings,
It’s their song of dying.

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