The Cold's Light

January 14, 2018

The snow falls from the sky
as my eyes can’t help but stare at its freedom.
Swirling, dancing on the window panes
Just to melt with a stain.
I complain and wish I were as free as them.
The thick snow pelts the window
As I’m stuck within this inside place.
Glittering white flakes twinkle with joy
As the light flicks itself upon their merry dance.
Each one as delicate as the light which shines upon their sparkling surface.
The light that gives them a shimmer and a shine
As they melt without fright.
If I could run outside
And dance
And play
And die in that light
I think I might just be alright.
In the Cold’s precious light.






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