Vain lament a winter's snow
Flitting through the fields below
I am but a shadow and the same
Drifting o'er December's mane
Where once were golden fields that grew
Now wretched white the time we knew
When all was grand and full with life
The cold comes carving as a knife
Where men once danced their merry round
And women laid their beauty down
On fields that gave their softened kiss
To love, and joy and youthful bliss
Where once were lovers warmed at night
Cold the still encumbered light
Reaches out to carry all
Who slumber still beyond the fall;
I am but a shadow and in vain
Do toil across this wretched plain
And snow white dripping from the grey
Falling aimlessly her flippant way-
I am but a shadow and in vain
Drape the winter's wicked reign
© Raymond t. Carter 1999
