Final blows from winter before victory is spring's.
Little laughters can survive the intensity.
Wind chill conquers the day, rules the night.
But not just another night.
Warmth denied, illumination forbade.
By the hands of millions; against one's pride and comfort.
Radiance of the ever-glow suppressed to the minimal.
Yet my eyes see, like i have never seen before.
Behold, a nation at its brightest.
No comments:
Post a Comment