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Mystery in the Blizzard

Eyes hidden deep, voice rough and low

By bishnu prasadPublished 4 months ago 1 min read
Mystery in the Blizzard
Photo by remi skatulski on Unsplash

Wind howls a dirge, snow paints the night,

A lone cabin, shrouded in white.

Footprints fresh, no tracks depart,

Only whispers on the icy heart.

Inside, warmth flickers, shadows dance,

Three souls tremble, a nervous glance.

Old Man Finn, beard etched with frost,

Speaks of secrets, voices lost.

Granddaughter Lily, eyes wide and bright,

Yearns for adventure in the darkest night.

Thomas, the hunter, stoic and strong,

Grips his rifle, senses something wrong.

A knock at the door, muffled and faint,

A stranger's plea, a desperate paint.

They open the door, snow swirls in cold,

A hooded figure, story untold.

Eyes hidden deep, voice rough and low,

Seeks shelter from the blizzard's blow.

Trust or suspicion, a choice they must make,

For mysteries whisper in the wind's wake.

As the fire crackles, stories unfold,

Secrets revealed, mysteries grow bold.

Will the truth unveil before the dawn's light,

Or vanish with the blizzard's silent flight?

Stay tuned, dear reader, the story's yet new,

The mystery of the blizzard waits for you.

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Comments (2)

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  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarran4 months ago

    Oooo, this was so captivating! I loved it!

  • Alex H Mittelman 4 months ago

    Fantastic poem!

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