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  • A Liars Luck

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    The poem describes the harshness of winter, with the cold slapping the speaker in the face and their spirits falling down a frozen wormhole as the snow falls. The landscape becomes barren and unwelcoming as leaves blend in and blossoms fall like fall. As the blizzard roars on, memories fade into snow drifts and thoughts and dreams blow away with the wicked wind, with time cutting to a better place that is never.

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    a liars luck

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    The poem describes the harshness of winter, with the cold slapping the speaker in the face and their spirits falling down a frozen wormhole as the snow falls. The landscape becomes barren and unwelcoming as leaves blend in and blossoms fall like fall. As the blizzard roars on, memories fade into snow drifts and thoughts and dreams blow away with the wicked wind, with time cutting to a better place that is never.

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    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    265 views1 page

    A Liars Luck

    Uploaded by

    api-511729292
    The poem describes the harshness of winter, with the cold slapping the speaker in the face and their spirits falling down a frozen wormhole as the snow falls. The landscape becomes barren and unwelcoming as leaves blend in and blossoms fall like fall. As the blizzard roars on, memories fade into snow drifts and thoughts and dreams blow away with the wicked wind, with time cutting to a better place that is never.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    of 1

    Unthawed Hope

    Ryan Buddenbohn
    Winter rises far in the distance,
    A cold slap in the face
    Awaiting those who wish to
    Receive the slap by the cold snap.

    What a time to be alive.

    The snow falls, so do my spirits,


    Down a wormhole, with my escape frozen shut.
    The days spent by the blossoms have fallen like fall,
    Leaves blending in, a barren landscape-
    Unwelcoming to the warm-blooded, and opportunity for the cold blooded.
    The chance is prime, the time 
    Is high. What I wish out of this frostbitten terrain
    Is for frozen time, with no thaw.

    What a time to be alive.

    As the blizzard roars on,


    Memories fade into snow drifts.
    The thoughts and dreams I had
    Blow into the wicked wind,
    With the gusts carrying me away.
    Time cuts to a better place: never.

    What a time to be alive

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