The wind sweeps the leaves from their home;
Chilling the air and silencing heat.
This is the season of passing
Solstice of winter sleep.
Though the cold wards many,
I do not own such luxury.
My mind sits restless,
focusing on carrying my weary feet...
This weather invades my heart,
as it is shrouded over me,
by stingy fridged lips
sapping the strength from every beat.
So as my joints stiffen,
As my lungs freeze,
My resolve dissipates
fading into the darkness that kisses my heels.
I must keep moving...
"till I hear the death bell's ring
or I reach my randevu.
Spring
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
The wind sweeps the leaves from their home;
Chilling the air and silencing heat.
This is the season of passing
Solstice of winter sleep.
Though the cold wards many,
I do not own such luxury.
My mind sits restless,
focusing on carrying my weary feet...
This weather invades my heart,
as it is shrouded over me,
by stingy fridged lips
sapping the strength from every beat.
So as my joints stiffen,
As my lungs freeze,
My resolve dissipates
fading into the darkness that kisses my heels.
I must keep moving...
"till I hear the death bell's ring
or I reach my randevu.
Spring
Request permission to use this poem