You wrote this poem just one week into spring this year. But the remnants of the previous winter, symbolized by the WINTER WRAITH, some harsh winds which have not dissipated kill the flower of early spring. Such delicacy needs warm, gentle breezes. You call this a tragedy, which it is because something beautiful has been destroyed wantonly in what should be its season. But I have the feeling that this flower wanted to bloom early, could wait no longer to display its spring beauty, took the risk - others will takes its place.
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You wrote this poem just one week into spring this year. But the remnants of the previous winter, symbolized by the WINTER WRAITH, some harsh winds which have not dissipated kill the flower of early spring. Such delicacy needs warm, gentle breezes. You call this a tragedy, which it is because something beautiful has been destroyed wantonly in what should be its season. But I have the feeling that this flower wanted to bloom early, could wait no longer to display its spring beauty, took the risk - others will takes its place.