Warmth is fleeting, so they say about cold goosebumps too
It will envelop you; lull you into a false sense of security
And the moment you close your eyes,
All you will have be left to hold, will be a hasty abandon

Your arms will reach out to hold on the last vestiges
Of your fortress, but all the tips of your fingers will taste will be
Dry, thin, humorless air; and you will open your eyes, a sigh
Will escape your lips as you look at the desert, left behind by your kingdom

Falling to your knees, you will lament
Your words, lost in translation, will be carried
By the wind, like a sand dune, to a place where you cannot reach
Because your legs will refuse to walk, to run

But as you prepare to accept your fate
And embrace the cold, winter air
You close your eyes like a child, in his mother’s care
You feel a blast of heat engulfing you,
And look up to see the sun…