unexpected winters are unsympathetic.

darkness looms over the land, 

threatening to blanket the world 

in a layer of cold. it is impossible 

to stay warm, 

to keep the fire inside sizzling-- 

a race against Father Time himself. 

He tricks the days, (O what fools!) 

they are shorter than before. 

the sun struggles to rise again each day,

the snow blankets are too dense. 

the sun’s sinking gasps are spent 

trying to break the icy grip; 

sunflowers stretch their petals towards warmth,

soaking up any light they can touch--

something they will come to be starved of      

for far too long. 

the moonlight glistens brighter each night,

a nightlight casting away the shadows.   

the stars whisper amongst themselves--

concerned for the world below. 

the world is dying, 

but all they do is watch. 

time passes slowly, 

stuck in an enchantment-- 

coldness desires control.