Outside the wind is howling ever cold air
No stars can be seen in the heavenly skies
It is just a heartless night without any care
I look below and dream with closed eyes.
So bitter, one wonders for warmth again
My hands shake and shiver for warmness
No gloves to give them sincerity to gain
Only the winters song cries in seriousness.
It grows by inches as I count the falling flakes
My trances are ever lower and more of snow
The coldness trembles no more chilling aches.
Only the wind cries an echo wishing to be free
There would be no cost for hope of tomorrow
It sings, it prays, it whistles ever not to see
When will this end, wishfully not in sorrow?
I raise my eyes again and see a fair instance
Nothing has really changed other than time
My life continues all the same with no prance
Winter cries on its song of its bitter nighttime.
It is cold outside and winter. The howling wind blows its cold air reminding us of the time.