![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/62bb519a5dae2c001d1e6d0b.jpg)
Flower petals caress her enchanted lips,
Dew drops fallen on the wildest of roses,
She can not keep her heart bound, away from what is her,
As vines and thorns intertwine her soul, it is all theirs.
Singing to the mountains she hears them reply,
There will be another spring, no need to cry.
She pleads to the winter’s frost covered blow,
To allow all the flowers to hum and glow.
So, there she sings to the mountains above,
While her fingertips become the meadow’s final flaw.
She is no longer the snow,
But instead, the winter’s kiss.
Her heart sings I am the sister of spring,
I am the daughter of night,
As well as the promises of another life.
About the Creator
A. Rose
Hello readers, I hope you are all enjoying the content I have created for you. I would love to hear your feedback, any is appreciated! Thanks again for checking out my stories,
A. Rose
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