a years worth of poetry

concerning winter depression part two

life does what it will, my soul's the one it kills.
the days in, the days out, its a constant grind.
still though, the worlds meaning i must find.
and through natures sounds, i discern a song;
a chorus of suffering, by those who've not done wrong;
the poor and the weak, the young and the old, until within itself, the whole world folds.

and as i stoke the flames once more
my heart's burned cold to the core.
the blood it pumps is ice in my veins,
piercing skin like needles, im lovin the pain
its strong but warm. i cling in vain
to my ice cube faith, t'will one day thaw and come pourin in like rain.

im tossing in pages of the book i loved.
the passions it brought still stir on above.
they keep movin around in my head,
bring on smiling faces on a warm sunny day.
i'd forgotten how life looks when its that way.

but for now the snow is still falling
and while it does these words keep calling
theres little to do but put them on paper
its futile but i'll regret not doing it later

but such a struggle to survive, further still to thrive. its a tumultous battle, i think i'd rather cry and let the winter cold freeze all my tears.
yes, freeze me still, frozen with fear,
as i fumble through yet another year.