Bears for sale

A winter’s breeze that bears ill will
That brings the mighty oak to cast its leaves
And watch as they swirl and die
To appease her majesty
For in her kingdom the power is hers still

Then will she turn to us such feeble folk
Without the protection of faith
Exposed like new born lambs
The wolf shall greet us, gently.
With the softest bite,
enough to die, but not take flight

There is no cry whilst there’s no fear
And those that should warn
Are themselves victims to a serpent
That sings softly in their ears
No need to bite
when coils will do all the fight
and remove all will and all sight

Pass me the broom let me sweep away
The dead leaves that clutter up this room
For I have been told that some
may even visit this place again
and I perceive it will be soon