Sockman1842

Winter is coming.   Yet the warmth lingers in the air. The flowers, taken by the frost, blossomed in the Spring- and the memory of that cold and bleak December faded like a dream. Immortalized by our youth, we were the best of friends, and not even in my nightmares did I think it would ever end- yet a chilling voice whispered on the horizon, as the sun sank and the light faded away.   Winter is coming. I stole a kiss from you in Summer. My heart was pounding, racing, all-aflutter - I closed my eyes, waiting for rebuttle, yet you kissed me back. Our cheeks were painted crimson, a word blossomed in our eyes that we

      Emptiness.  That was all there was now in his life.  The house had been empty for a year and all that lingered behind were dust & old memories.        A man sat with a piece of paper lined at a desk; a pen curled within his gnarled fingers, turning the blank sheet to a letter bearing the scars of his melancholy, the words he would leave behind to the world.        The pen-tip scraped against the page - mirroring what he had long whispered in his heart.  "I love you" he scribbled in a long-fluid cursive.