IzzyBeth45856

Upon a fine spring day, There suddenly was snow, A way to mark the passing; The purest always go. The Sun was high and distant, Shimmering hotly with His beams, The lush and heavy forest shone, Fatly bursting through the seams. I wandered then, a vessel, Of man's passion and man's sin, A relict of the Sepulchre; White without, and rot within. The Sun met me with scrutiny, Pierced my body with rich heat, Then sent His man, Death, To the road, where we would meet. Death said to me: "Good lady, "As we walk here, it is not wise to tarry. I believe you have a burden in you, That I alone can carry." He was right, for what I had