The Bitter Cold

Faint frosty air
In the chill of the night
Aroma of despair
In the slience tonight

Placid, it seems
With white naked trees
As the moon beams
Glowing hope in dreams

But it's a fasood
The comfort is false
All optimism gone
So ends the waltz

Everything clears
Revealing much more
Your bottled-up fears
Wash up from the shore

In a restless world
And a helpless night
Straight lines are curled
As all is set in flight

But remember the air
And ice upon your cheeks
Under the layers you wear
There is something you keep