All is quiet, no sound at all.
There are no birds chirping, and the time is fall.
The bunnies all sleeping discomfort comes first,
The birds tree-to-tree, dying of thirst.
The animals all wait silently, for the first snowflake.
But all they get is another long break.
A break from food, water, and coziness.
With the overwhelming essence of sleepiness.
As the first cloud approaches, they anticipate wearily.
And when it stops right above they all think merrily.
When a gale force wind blows it away,
The animals all look down and pray,
For something to happen miraculously so.
For all they want is a morsel of snow.
The animals, gone hungry, are dying first.
But those who survived have not seen the worst.
With little knowledge of what lay ahead.
Not knowing that they would soon be dead.
The forest is shrinking and so is the hope,
The ground sandy soil and the willows a mope.
The lakes have gone dry, with skeletons of fishes.
All left in the dessert are the far-fetched wishes.