The icy breaths of winter rattle the sleeping night
The shutters clatter as the rain patters leaving a trail of tears
A maddened leap for cover as the storms shouts out its rage
Cutting through as ice daggers plummet down
Fearless warriors defending their home
A battle of tongues and colours
Swords, spears, lips all fighting
For power, destruction on the red morn
The water races its rapids across the pained glass
Too many droplets for so few eyes
The laughter and smiles are buried
Long forgotten in the cold, dark times
The wind rustles the dead soldier's hair
So lovingly ruffled in better days
His once vibrant eyes drowned
Reflecting the eye of the storm
**verse three 'pained glass' is meant to be that spelling.**
***i know this is a nature poem as well but i think the most important part is the part about the soldier so it goes here in sad**
