I feel the cold air as it blows through the windows. Chilling me to the bone. The fire is burning. But it's as cold in here as a stone. Damn I hate the cold, But such beauty in the snow. Trees and mountains are covered. Old winters like I use to know.
Have you ever thought about the seasons. Each with it's own special gift. Wonder for what reason. They give my soul a lift. Each has it's own curse. Yet with it's beauty too. Showing me what is real and true. Nursing me thru the bad times. Dancing with me in the good. Understanding neither. Never thought I could.
And so is the mystery. The season often plays. In how we find misery. Yet life's that way.
Originally Posted On Site: 2008-11-19 08:10:47
Last Login: 02.09.12
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