Cold Case

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Comes the frost upon our windowpane

We feel its chill but touch it we cannot

Lays its pattern out as an artist cloaked in pain

Until his creation is bethought.


The world surrenders locked away in rime

Each fragile finger reaching out to touch

Always falling short, each broken frozen first

Our carnival of impulses running out of time.


Warmed by perspiration, tears and fears

We leave our scar it breaks the lattice pattern

The frost yet still endures so cold aloof

We learn surrender to its fates that fly as spears.


Silent unaware long rest unworried

By Spring so far away in love with distant lands

Its promise all we have is buried

Under snow still drifting cross our Soul.

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