the world is cold inside me
too cold to feel the pain
the pain that has become a part of my cold self
the pain of birth and death
the pain of being apart from you.

Ever since I made my decision to be on my own path
to be away, though to be in touch
i have missed that December we'd spent together
and had warmed each other.

Since then each December revives the memories
of the time we'd spent together
but then soon they fade away under the bright colors of New Year.

Life goes on, and on till "the last syllable of recorded time
....the way to dusty death"