• The cold, hugging my knees,
    Calling for hope, the warmth that will never come,
    Shattered wind pricks the stone grass,
    The trees cringe, scraping their branches like ice,
    It’s always constant,
    Always there.
    Only the faint, sweet song of hope kisses my tears,
    Sends me off to a silent wood of peace,
    Spring.

    I wished for spring as a child,
    Wished for the light to show her face,
    I wished for golden trees,
    It’s a dream that worsens the nightmare,
    Nightmares of cold knives sliding across my back,
    The moonless night of hidden monsters,
    Icy claws and gleaming eyes-
    The nightmare that never ends.