The howling wind blows,
speaking to me softly.
I awake with a blow.
When I rise, I am befallen again
like each day when I go to sleep
and I wake up again.
The winter cold stings my face like your
barren words, freezing me, hardening me up
like an icicle hanging in the balance
on a roller-coaster that rises and falls
I cry for redemption from my freezing hell.
Hold my last breath until I turn blue like January.
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