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★★★★★ (12)
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1207405

Beauty is often deceiving

*Snow3*  *Snow3*  *Snow3*  The Snowy Siren Calls To Me  *Snow3*  *Snow3*  *Snow3*


White, fluffly down from angel's wings
Is fluttering to the ground.                        *Snow1*
It covers trees, grass, and all                                                          *Snow2*
That I see for miles around.
                                                                          *Snow3*
The vision of the angel down
Is an awesome thing to see.
The beauty of the falling snow
Is a Siren calling  me.                                  *Snow2*                  *Snow1*

But, as I take a single step
Toward the beauty outside my door,
The soothing sound of the Siren call                              *Snow3*
Is not like it was before.

She snarls with hateful malice,
Shrieks spiteful words in my ear,                                                *Snow3*
Angry feelings held inside
Are made so very clear.
                                                                  *Snow1*
She grabs with icy fingers,
Wishing for my death,
She tries to freeze me to the spot                                            *Snow2*
With her howling, Arctic breath.
                                                        *Snow1*
I know I should break away
From the Snowy Siren's spell.                                                      *Snow2*
There's a lesson I should remember,
One I've known so very well.

All at once it comes to me,                            *Snow3*
Through memories dogged insistence;
Some beauty, it seems, is  only made                                  *Snow3*
To be experienced from a distance.

                                                            *Snow2*









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