Melancholic

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 19, 2016

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Submitted: July 19, 2016

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The brittle grass of a frigid meadow 
clings to the icicles drowning the life 
out of it, as the sunlight sinks 
into the untimely darkness.

The night lay still beneath the stars
that shine for no one, shedding light
unto the morbid attitude of the
dismal witching hour.

Lush growth and humid evenings 
have given way to the raw bitterness
of the biting air where the charming
climate strays out of reach.


© Copyright 2017 Christopher Harold. All rights reserved.

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