Gone with the Wind

It is always us that suffer
when she cries her icy tears.
Her fingers seduce lovers,
whilst they whisper of their fears.
She mimics our depression
when we lose the strength to smile.
A dominatrix by profession,
she finds affection wastes her time.
Left the crown by Autumn,
she longs for steady Spring.
She finds it hard to rise once fallen,
so she punishes everything.
Never one for being diplomatic,
the days are rarely light. 
Yet, in all her malice,
she is beautiful by sight.
A patient, much-skilled artist;
the landscape she strips bare.
The trees are much degraded,
but restless Winter doesn't care.
An elementally-gifted sorceress,
she plays us like a toy.
Some submit to let her torture us;
some overcome her to enjoy.
She is legendary madness;
perfect example of 'unhinged'.
She lets us feel her sadness,
then disappears on the wind.