bloodbath
it's polar in one's soul (in its northern side), a cold blizzard reigns ‧ a predictable hunch clouded its eyes' sky, and frost deafened it ‧ if it tries to say some, its words… get frozen ‧ whispered a snowdrop , on bloodbath of March
⁂ Writer’s Note: Just a metaphorical, innocent exploration of artistic inspiration with intuitivety, structured around the music's rhythm and creative flow. ⁂ So, thru which corridor of your nerves does happiness infiltrate inside you? And. At what time?