March in
A maddening month to see
Trees were painted to dark
That must be
A sad angel of heavens
Swallowed the golden lights
Of morning sun
March in
A depressing month to me
A snow show suddenly falls
That must be
A sick Muse
Vomited undigested stuffs
From last night revelry
March in
When morning, a faithful mirror
Present a pale face
That must be
A sculpture of Venus
Enchanted by a fleeting of passions
In some nights of sleepless
