Woo thee, weeping soul, pitty thee, thy searing pain.

Let the be a soul forgotten, and let the be a soul forgott.

A Christmas spirit loss.

Silken snow, of winged angels fall.

Fallen, frozen, drops of tears.

The snow of our winter this eve,
is a Christmas without the cheer,

But it is a Christmas born from fear.

Warmth, and subtle, long forgotten.

hate and mischief al begotten,

tools of trade, lying deceit.

Al the tools of man taken.

Today of Christmas,

a joys event, money lost, life spent.

Where did the loving carols go?

Where did al our warm wishes fly?

If anyone can tell me where our Christmas spirit when to,

Tell this sad soul, so he can send a tribute,

to her vacations she must have taken

from these parts.

Poetry by Christoffer Waye
Read 647 times
Written on 2006-12-25 at 01:56

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