The icy dread of Old Man Winters breath
Eats through my flushed skin, causing the leaves to meet their scheduled deaths
He steals the Warmth that I once called "mine"
This Warmth, no longer mine, now sails through the air
That Warm air, carries on past my cold hands
Burning and forcing them to seek out a new Warmth
A new immediate Warmth that comes only from touching the skin of a Sinner
Embracing and becoming the Sinner, releases a powerful new Warmth,
A heat. That battles The Old Man himself.
Melting and christening the frozen world around me
Thawing the ground and blooming the trees
Changing the season, if only for a minute
As the beautiful heat begins to fade, I am left cold and fighting for warmth, in a quickly freezing puddle of shame.