Sinister

A storm is brewing ahead,

as everything falls dead,

the leaves are no longer green,

and the sun cannot be seen.

Dark clouds cover the blue sky,

as the wind kisses the land like a sigh.

In the heart of the woods,

ice seeps into everything good.

The trees are now bare,

and time stills without a care.

The threat of winter is on the horizon,

it’s similar to the way the sun-

sets for the dark, unforgiving night;

they will snuff out everything that may be light.