FASHION/WINTER 2003                                                                                                                                                             ISSUE 5

THE WINTER PEOPLE, pg. 2
Text By Dreama
Photos By Jim
Lethargy

The sun blazes hot
On the cold dark ground
The frost is on my eyelids
I can see the moon 
And the stars
On my face
Cold and dead
Bright and blazing
On my face
My teardrops fall like frozen rain
Their shadows on the ground
Blocks of ice are at my feet
Ice cubed drops fell down
Black roses keep falling from the sky
Black roses loom in winter
The wood and the trees
Call a Morrison breeze
That whispers through the sky above
While death looms over my brow
The wind serenades me,
Crying out,
"Pain is morning's awakening.
Mourning is Death's life!"

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