With the fresh tilt of the Blue Planet’s axis...
Number of daylight hours start decreasing..
the pulchritude of nature is being extirpated..
The waters become
the victims of the glaciers...
The mountains are dressed all white..
The sun is
frightened by the voracity of the
dark clouds..
The path of the birds is trapped by the inexorable
wind...
The flowers are brutalized, and forced to dream out
loud..
With the feeling that they’ll be conserved for the
next game..
Every sin will
begin with an end...
Humans are now wishing to be as golden as the polar
bear..
Million of mysterious deaths..
But tears can’t be less than frozen..
The Morning and the Night stop competing, finally both
are chosen..
More than the mystery of the seasons...
It’s an icy heart....
Where the light of Aphrodite lost its path..
It can only be warmed by what?
All heaven can say is by the fire of love..
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