I cannot fight these feelings of emptiness,
As I trudge on & on through this vacant night,
I’ve never felt so hollow alongside the moon & stars,
With a blank stare, I look out at the world–
Out at the bleak horizon.
The ominous hills reflect the cold, clean light,
And the valley traps the midnight mist in its encapsulating ravine.
Across the bay, I see the glow of distant houses,
Their lights mirrored on the glassy cove.
Chimney smoke billows, then dissipates in the bitter air,
I find myself drawn to the heat that radiates from these homes,
What remains of my frost-bitten frame, craves the comforting warmth.
But, still, I wander on in this lifeless freeze.
I don’t believe I’ll ever find that same kind of fire inside myself again,
There is nothing there to thaw these polar pillars within.
My deadened senses will not revive,
Because I’ve already bled myself dry
And I can’t even begin to pursue some fake & faded flicker,
After I’ve felt the inferno of a twin flame.
I cannot go towards the heat that I am drawn too,
Nor can I be relit by another flare like before.
My old burns are still open wounds–
Defenseless against the harsh winds of the lonely arctic darkness.
I am constantly reminded that I used to know the sweet fervor of the fever,
And that my dwindling embers were reignited by that beautiful spark.
It came to me when I needed it most,
And a fire began to build, that melted the glaciers in our souls,
But its thrilling blaze was quelled too soon.
I now aimlessly trod along,
Trying to find a way to feel whole again,
But the same pain still lingers.
Each weary step I take, drains me more & more.
I am comforted by the memories I made,
But I’m plagued knowing that I finally had that special warmth surrounding me…but I lost it.
It billowed beautifully, then dissipated like the chimney smoke on a frigid night.
It was doused by the chilling rain that falls from above,
And those woeful waters stripped the ashes of that fiery dream from my trembling hands,
Now, I’m sitting here in an icy wasteland with these soaking wet palms–
Upturned & open from reaching out for the first time.
I shiver, not only from the cold, but from fear.
For I am already frozen,
And the winter has only just begun.