Deaths Figure Sentries A Look That Could Kill

A summer ghost, fragrant as an orchid turned my head in wonder and surprise as the summer effaced turned watches frigid it's now that I tremble, my teeth, incise they're engraved with a cold winter's chill eyes adjusting, they freeze their silent loch deaths figure sentries a look that could kill wraith my heart, now, like a dead windsock summer on my shoulders takes her absence as this oddity penetrates my soul I'm left, beseeching myself in captions. All I see, all that I feel isn't whole. Suddenly, as he appeared, he was gone- in his black-cloaks-wake, a carrion crow flew on.