In the winter chill
My heart heaves and sighs,
I've seen and heard all I can bear
What do my eyes not see?
The endless toil, the never ending cascade of suffering and disillusionments,
I find myself not caring or feeling.
Why should the heavens pour joy, while I weep in grief?
I shall never know, why I have received these just deserts.
Could this be my trial?
Could this be my end?
I leave it to fate to do as it wills.