These flurries drifting in my skies,
Floating through my reason,
Express intentions unrealized,
A cool, restraining treason,
As though winter, holding back surprise,
Waits to drop her train and freeze us
Flurries in my secret vaults,
Flecks of dark depression
Whisper to me all my faults,
And leave the stark impression
That under my cold facade, tumult
Rages with aggression.
Who can restrain a single flake,
And who can speak to atmosphere
To reveal her flurries as mistake,
Her whispers altered and austere,
Who can reach inside to shake
The brewing storm severe?
viewingcamelot 
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