The lullaby drifting through twilight.
The clash of gold and its cold-ridden kin,
Many a times muddled with no distinction,
A fine balance is non-existent;
Deceptive in its everlasting grin.
The clouds dancing in the grey.
The tides of the stars riding the wind,
Reminders from time and time again;
To repeats we are aforebound,
Yet riddled with a glimpse of kindness among all things unsound.
The flowers cascading with the wintry spell.
The reflections we choose to ignore,
Like an ever existing paramour,
Embrace the ice and fire,
For words shall remain inscrutable.