Handwritten

I assure you, I’m not done with winter:
This season’s blood-soaked teeth have left their mark;
It’s the fierceness from these fangs that fill her
With trophies of blood, dead remnants of hearts.
I’ve paid the price for braving this black cold,
For wand’ring outside with no good return;
I’ve lost the dark will for frozen tales told
In hazy nights, old lessons left unlearned.
Yet I cannot purge myself of winter;
I know there’s no way to drag me into
A warmer place, with stained walls painted to
Hail the change of autumn, the warmth of spring,
And the comfort that the summer could bring.
If winter haunts me, then war shall be seen.

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About DickensianJack

Born in Wolverhampton in November '93, moved to Huddersfield in September 2012. Studying at the University of Huddersfield. In love with the town - simple as that. As for the blog itself, I've been doing bits and pieces of writing (with varying quality) for a few years. A friend suggested I start a blog to share my work. Most of the stuff on here is poems, but there's other work interspersed on the page. Feel free to leave any comments on my work. Twitter: @DickensianJack (Jack Dickens) Facebook: www.facebook.com/dickensianjack Cheers, enjoy.
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