Snow gently drifts down from winters dark sky like the regrets of a life long past.
Thoughts twisted this way and that like the frozen branches shaken only by a cold winters wind. Is life lost or does it slumber beneath the blanket of soft velvet, pure in it's demise?
Torturous time, it takes, always taking and never giving. Not unlike humanity, lost in its own world oblivious to those around them, thinking they see and understand but they cannot not really comprehend. Who really cares for the plight of another?
Leave them where they lie, forgiving nothing.