14 October 2012
Winter is coming The majestic trees lose their rich, red robes, Leaving them bare, exposing their bones. Their skeletal arms tremble in the grey, Delivering moans and grunts of dismay.
Winter is coming The freezing air robs the birds of their song Kills their inspiration, morning sun is not born They leave a ghostly silence, fleeing the dark day It's just the trees now, and their moans of dismay.
Winter is coming The branches are breaking, a thought trembles in the cold, The cruel silence numbs the shadows, the mind is now provoked, The last warm breath deserts the chest, the ice it betrays, Winter has come, silencing the moans of dismay
Winter Is Coming • Opuss № I