Winter is Coming

The autumn winds are making the forest sing
and so I sit here, singing with my crying woodwind
The times of summer laughter and joy
drown in the grey mist that now cover these lands
and envelop us in the taste of the coming cold

You can feel it, can you not, my friend?
Hear the silent words that whisper
in the voice of the howling wind;
Save what you can, winter is coming
Save what you can, winter is coming…

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