The frost still hasn’t gone,
Binding one down,
A frozen tundra that constantly surrounds
These joints and these aches
Floating like smoke over piano keys,
The song plays no more.
It’s stagnant and dry.
They say summer is nigh,
But life is not of a cycle.
Born in Spring, we never see Spring again.
Only the natural concede,
The rest cease to breathe.
For many death brings new life,
For conscious thinking,
Life brings new death,
Over and over.
What to do but wait?
We can’t leave a mark as it is.
And those that do leave scars.
Healed overnight,
And ignored as reminders,
Instead as glory.
Competing for injustice,
Whose is the worst of all.