The Land

In land once tull with leaves of gold,
winter icy heart has taken hold,
what had been land for all to dream,
is now a desolate place to scream,
flowers of red, and grass so green,
covered in a horrible icy sheen,
lost to the world of shimmering snow,
is the beauty of the land we all know,
trapped for months to come; our land,
It's features twisted and bland,
yet we've come to like this time,
writing of it rhyme after rhyme,
hoping to capture it's very heart,
for souls do weep when it does part.





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