Flying Snow : Riven's Poem
Flying Snow: Riven's Poem
Flying snow sporen smother
wind whines over wasted fields
rabbit's burrow buried in white
whiteheel's scent scattered on air.
I howl for hunger on this weary hunt —
cold sears through seru sides,
ice cuts cruelly in pads.
Nose to the tempest's tearing teeth
blood prints path of pain.
Thus go I, a grey shadow,
slowly faring frozen fields
mind wandering to warmer days —
sunbeams dancing on early dew,
spinner's home heavily hung
with glistening globules,
game in the fields.
Then I would hunt hart on the hide...
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