L’épitaphe de l’hiver

the winter weeps its last
yet it is plain to see
its former youth is passed
and ready to sleep is he
who but short days ago
had such teeth and claw
to rip the world with snow
but seeks to hunt no more

the tears of ice have dried
with spring’s new born ascent
and days of darkness die
though not their vowed intent
to someday walk again
and hold reign o’er the earth
to waste this world of men
in bitter death’s rebirth.