See it’s only May at time’s side
where does the sun then hide
it covers my vermillion heart
the duvet of a snow, that snows inside
Hear, somewhere a violin cried
its note, has been tongue tied
it sounds like chopin’s art
the falling of a snow, that snows inside
Look, my clarity has died
its grave, my mourning cannot decide
it smells like a rotten mort
buried neath a snow, that snows inside
Notice, shadow replaces light
only in this black rhyme I confide
it incises it tears me apart
the cold carve of a snow, that snows inside
©️Aaila.
The Inked Aaila 