January Frozen Ground
Amplifies sounds, found,
Tucked underneath the worst of regrets
Clutched between ****** knuckles
In the bottom of my soul
Dusty, yellowed pages of the hymn
       Words of Gold
It reads like a holy book
States melancholy, a definitive purpose
Assuages hopelessness
In a comfort that is warm and serene
Surreal
A sensation
Almost hallucinatory
Roaring through my body
Soaring through my head
Upwards, a crown
    Words of gold.