It happened in the night time within a hallowed nook.
The birth of a thousand tomorrows, beside a furrowed brook.
The motion of the moment lay twisted on frozen snow.
The sorrow of the world where hated memories grow.
The sound I still remember, filled the soundless void.
The emotions unstoppable, with screams one can't avoid.
The color of crimson, melting into white.
Freezing in an instant, paralyzing one with fright.
And in an instant, it ended, crumpled in a heap.
Decaying into nothingness, where yet another may reap.
Lesa MRK
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cycle-2/
