I stand on this roof,
Gazing upon the twilight world,
The faces of passersby,
Shrouded by veils of stars and night.

I play my song of eerie trills;
The highs,
The lows,
This sickeningly sweet lullaby,
Carrying all into the comforting embrace,
Of midnight slumber.

This swooping melody,
My warm, but shuddering breath
breathes life into the frost covered flute,
Cradled in my ice cold hands.

My breath,
My life,
Heard by all,
But me.