Winter Is Coming

Winter is coming riding occult wings, Cold winds frosty mist it brings.  Green world turns into barren land, Western winds sound like a band.   A big ball of blood red orange hides itself in the skies, White moist blanket all over when I rise. Tall white mountain embraced frozen river, On a tall tree with bare bough birds quiver.   The brutal Frosty wild winds coldly blow, The winter is coming I know. Misty fog hovering on my head, Old ones shivering in their bed.    A dreary depressed tree without leaves, Winter’s wind took away like thieves. On a yellow buttercup drops are humming. Jumping from the hills brutal winter is coming.