The cold wind stirs me from my dream
and the wind whispers words of nothing.
The covers do not keep warmth.
The fire does not blaze.
For yet there is something froze in me.
so delicate yet it continues to beat.
Every movement
Every Breath
Brings me closer to the edge.
Something stirs and awakens
as dawn is on the horizon
But yet my soul does not thaw over.
Oh no, the rays they do not touch me as
I am ever on constantly
in a misery
of
cold
and
dark.
