The winter queen brings
forth her fury.
The snow falls for days on end.
The winds lash bitterly friend or foe.
With a wave of her hand ice encapulates the land.
It envelopes objects big and small.
It drips and hangs, icicles in dagger forms.
The air is so sharp it rushes and cuts through your senses.
On her throne of ice she sits and smiles.
These are the days of winter.
When the queen brings forth her fury.
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