White It hasn't snowed yet It will never snow here But feel the coldness rush in Whenever he passes by His robes, whiter than the snow His appearance flushes the sky He was offered fine wine And a night alongside cold spring But his solace is in quiet places And in a melody he likes to sing Some places carry his traces Some stories carry his name But he only carries his beloved And some memories of the same. ©Anagha Ukaskar #GoodMorning #lanwangji #theuntamed #hanguangjun #Nojoto
