A tale of winter

-Emidaka Rapsang, XII, Editor-In-Chief

Amidst the snowdrops of winter, Along the bleak days of December, I scraped myself away from your melancholic embrace. Bid it away and forsaken, Like an empire of fallen grace.

Your tragedy entrapped me like vines of ivy, So frail and poisonous with the deceit of glory, And I ran from your affection with underlying travesty, With hollow wounds

And I, a sight of bleeding cavalry.

I crowned you an empress upon a throne, And your sceptre was a knife to the bone. You knew not of love or life, And your misery is yet just another disguise.

My affection was cruel yet yours were lies, For you lit the match of our pyres, Thus you shall dance alone upon the fires.