Nary a year
Has the warmth
Left my heart,
Each endeavor
Lighting within it
A wild spark.
Each journey has ended
With blistering pain,
Never was the heated
Joy of love ever gained.
So now I sit here,
Youthful but tired,
Having never loved
But only desired.
"Apathy is death"
So say they of old,
But all I feel within
My heart of stone
After all is
The Cold.