Winter Grasp

Hearken to the darkness that conquers the soul. Hail to the winter that punishes with snow. 

Hearken to the lark that sounds gloomy in the moor. Hide from the cold that frosts you to the core.

Hearken to the chill that freezes old bone. Shiver next to the hearth that warms cold stone. 

Grasp rays of hope that slip through adumbrate cumulus clouds. Cover thy mourning faces with hooded warm shrouds.

But know in the end you will once again sing. When the clutches of winter darkness flee in the Spring!