When the Innocuous snow, unhurriedly descends.
With muted twirls, like the dried leaves dying.
There is a beautiful gloom staring with tinted sense.
A truth of life, so deafeningly notifying.
The flakes of snow fall on the sinister paths
Dazzling us with its radiant white
Cleverly disguised remarkable façade
Making the chameleon proud of evil’s slight
It makes some incessantly slip, trip and blunder.
And snigger while you ashamedly perspire.
You wonder whether it was all of you,
Has it stemmed out of some filthy desire?
Oh what an irony the snow is!
Spotlessly blanch yet decidedly ambiguous
Camouflaged by the thick conceal
The misdeeds of man are outrageous
When the light of the sun shines and dazzles
The bare soul is indeed revealed
Dark as a dungeon rotten away
Clogged brain, locked ears and heart sealed
From the rocking cradle, to the thorny bier.
He portrays the spirit of pretence.
A shady heart and speech so brutally suave
The whiteness of the snow makes sense