Winter soaked in the solitude
Of sprays and myriad zephyr
The green grass of old
Now turned white
By multitudinous snow
The days turned dull and gloomy
By the disappearing sun
Flames of snowflakes
Hanging in the quite air
The gloomy castle playing host
To the lost of the great kings
Droplets of water
Producing a nice petrichor
The winter brezzes whistling through
...