Deep in the heart of winter,
A faint glimmer;a glow,
From the embers that set peace ablaze,
When the winter is over;we know,
Spring will thaw the peace,
From the calming cover of ice,
It's a well planned strategy,
And not a game of dice,
But, still ,it feels like a gamble,
The perpetual ritual again,
Some months of rest in winter,
The spring then brings the pain,
Foolish are those that learn not,
From the repetition of events, again,
A sin it is to ignore this,
To exist with nothing to gain,
It’s a pity when a people,
Live their lives as sheep,
Following others blindly,
Down the crevasse that's deep,
Maybe not a game of dice,
It is surely something evil,
When those that preach the virtues,
Are themselves filled with vice.
The perpetual ritual again,
Some months of rest in winter,
The spring then brings the pain,
Foolish are those that learn not,
From the repetition of events, again,
A sin it is to ignore this,
To exist with nothing to gain,
It’s a pity when a people,
Live their lives as sheep,
Following others blindly,
Down the crevasse that's deep,
Maybe not a game of dice,
It is surely something evil,
When those that preach the virtues,
Are themselves filled with vice.
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