The cold air blows across the starlit sky.
I stand here alone on this cold dark night.
Icicles form on the branches of the trees.
The wind blows swiftly. It seems to be calling to me.
The soft whistling is like a melody to my ears.
Music in disguise. It’s so far but it’s always near.
I feel my own body heat absorbed into the air.
Leaving me breathless, my lungs feel so bare.
Soft white snowflakes drifting silently along the ground.
Attract the snow white wolves that howl with a blissful sound.
This magical scenery captivates my mind.
The reason behind it I cannot find.
Feelings of wonder and continues to hold sway.
My mind is blank and white. Not meant to be painted gray.
How long I could lay here in the snow I cannot tell.
This everlasting enjoyment has somehow eclipsed itself inside a shell.
Making it harder to break away from this fantasy.
Making me turn my head to look back inside reality.
It will never change, no matter how hard I close my eyes.
My world cannot be painted gray. It is meant to be white.
My soul will drift along the snow and ice, so ashen white in paradise.
