The pines tingle and tremble in the dusk of day.
The snow remains steady and dares not to breathe.
The wind softly moans around the colden decay.
The flakes dart back and forth, hiding among the trees.
The clouds claw the sky, leaving desperate, pleading gashes.
The last blades of grass sweat from the ominious presence.
The fog hovers in and crawls amongst the grime and ashes,
as the forest is consumed with an eerie silence.