Brisk paces and trembling voices occupied the night,
creating symphonies that are often recognized.
“Hide in a corner, light a fire,
cuddle up, as the ice conspires.”
A lonesome man drifted through the streets,
deserted pathways figurative of his melancholic beats.
Shivering through fog of smoke,
he looked for the stars to guide him home.
He tried to find the sky in land,
his view distorted by the watery wonderland.
In an empty house, he noticed, a lady stayed up all night,
another rested forever, in a house full of mimes.
Drop by drop the winter chimed;
in that icy cold, they bid their time.
Wet and numb, he crawled with his heavy chains,
reminiscing of sorrows and miseries that he had so far gained.
With a lit cigarette, he wondered of the time he died,
of all the black roses that still laid on his grave.
Originally published on 18th January 2014.