Monday, November 21, 2011

The Cold Weather

The chill of the outside weather, that makes the tip of my nose and the tops of my ears turn red from the bitter sting of cold.

A breath exhales, out of my lungs, and forms in an abundance of its own fog,
billowing from the depths of me as it bids a short farewell to blend in with the air surrounding me.

My thoughts feel empty, as though it were put into a hibernation of a lackadaisical mindset only to sleep until spring arrives.

I fall, back into the surroundings of unmotivated apathy, and this lack of instigation provides a loneliness among fears.

"Do I just lay here to die?"
My lonesome qualities drown out the sounds of inspiration amongst the beauty that dwells within.

Each layer shed,
every new chill brought in, enclosing me in a frozen shell.

My colors have faded from its vibrant red,
to a most peaceful white and I am engulfed in a thoughtful snowfall that crowds my ever-anxious mind.

My hands entwine together with a frozen disposition, as the dry weathered skin becomes ice.

The tears well up within,
"Does this apathy last long?"

Steady breathing,
steady thinking,
an all-distant peace clouding me.

Shall I sleep, my friend? For in this peace, shall I feel strength in the morrow?

My love is abundant,
it is quiet,
it is a steady-paced murmur.

And I fade out into a listless paced hum.

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