The Winter Bell Tolls

The Winter Bell tolls,

lonely and solemn,

as gusting leaves roll,

blown by the Old One.

He had cursed Old Sun,

to roam the Black Reach,

while the Wheel still turned

and the Winter creeped.

Our bones grow so cold,

hearts all beating black.

The Old One foretold

of Winter’s Attack.


© CGT, 2017.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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