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WinterIt's the exhalation born of deepest nights:
The breath of a breeze that burns with its chill,
A whispering wind that caresses and kills,
A scream that strokes the spine with fingers of ice.
The sun holds little sway, distanced from the land;
Winter has ascended, taken half the Earth
With siege weapons of hail and squall and blizzard,
Her frozen hold foiling the toils of man.
Both the powerful and fragile must succumb,
And once the world is held in her icy grasp,
She uses subtler weapons: illness' gasp,
Aching joints, endless sleep from falling numb.
The destroyer is a creator as well,
The frosted landscape a wonderwork of art:
A snow-day child's silvered dream, a world apart.
Yet danger waits behind the silence of school bells.
Above, sharp spires; below, treacherous pools,
Deadly swords or daggers and clouded mirrors
Waiting, observer and executioner
Of those who would be the season's chosen fools.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More