The Sonnet of the Whispers of Winter

Believe What You Want | Simone Kulinski | Painting

The Sonnet of the Whispers of Winter by Nick Fellner

Changing my tune every single night,

The lyrics here just don’t seem to be quite right,

Locked myself beneath the rushing riverbed, secluded,

Gasping for breath but sinking beneath this weight, I’m deluded.

Across the Pond | Liam Zalubas | Photography

Across the pond listening to the whispers of winter,

Cracking skin can coalesce, these thoughts stagger, on repeat,

Frosted over by the cold embrace of my heart, it will splinter.

My footprint is only a mark of my self-defeat.

Come hither, and hold this hand,

Cast off these garments of expectation,

Stare into these jade green eyes, a sign of contemplation,

Carving the mark, our hearts will be stitched into this land.

But these pages are ripped, succumbed to the frost,

It really doesn’t matter, in the end this song is . . . lost.

Untitled | Dylan Flicker | Photography