Standing vigil,
As winter gets in one last blow,
It's like falling,
Landing deep in some cold ocean below.

It's impossible to breath,
Struggling to the surface,
The arctic currents ripping all heat away,
Like it was the wind itself.

Breaking the surface,
Battered by waves,
The ocean spray stinging face and arm,
Dark tidal currents swirling below.

Grey clouds circling overhead,
Like the sharks most assuredly circling down below,
Both curious yet extremely dangerous,
A covergency by either would spell ruin and woe.