The onset of winter

[Rose Love]

Her beauty stood pale against the cold dead grey
She could feel his presence drawing ever closer
His huge expanse surrounded her
Setting her delicateness in absolute shadow
I told you did I not
His cold dead lips spit as he spoke
With frost bitten hands he gripped at her throat
I am your great castigator
A deathly instrument sent to rip you violently from your place
Not even your beauty will bring tear to my cold dead eye
I swear it now you will die
But as he spit and raged her slender beauty stood poised
Loving and defiant, her hope seemed viscous
Even as he squeezed tighter
Draining the last of the air from her life giving lungs
She knew that after all this death would come life
So with elegant grace she gave up the fight
And the world watched on in silence to the death of a flower

Oh my God, I love this poem! Why did you change it? Put it back! Seriously, I think this one is infinitely better!