* f r o s t- c r y*

Listening to the wind,

The frost descends from with in.

Trees swaying in the breeze,

Dreading frostbite, the freeze.

But through the howl

I hear a cry.

A pitying one, not a lullaby;

I trudge out, what becomes of me?

Will I get to say good-bye?

It's up to you to wait and see.

~enter~

~E-mail~ ~Home~ ~Jade Waterfall~