Winter's Last Song

Cool wind.
A whisper that brushes your lips.
A silent killer but a children's lullaby.
The white desert is coming.

A tiara that echoes her power
A coat that covers us in its tight grasp
A siren to those whom she toys with

See the faint wisp in the air.
She's probably here already.
A new vibrant dance in sync with the tempo of the snow.
Her way to end the year on a good note.
And her way to usher the coming new year.

She says
"Will this be my last dance?"
"Will this be the last song?"
"If so I hope you'll embrace me before you become too old."

- I have problem scanning this art piece (I should've used an A4 paper instead of an A3) so i had to take a picture instead
that's why:
~the image quality is not as great as I wanted to have
~the sides got cropped off a bit