Chilly

The wind without is chilly. Wide streets are bare, none are there. Theses winding parts are long and cold. All street lamps too are frosty. I shiver along within my arms. It’s so cold, would I withstand? There! I see lights within a house, Hear voices, see shadows from without. I take my chance and knock all doors. Harsh voices resound from within. How one quickly falls out of place When his glamour he cannot trace. I trudge homewards with frozen steps. I force open my door, then in. I crawl into by bed, but see! My sheets once warm are now so cold, My chimney, fiery, now does freeze. Now I sigh, where do I turn When it’s cold without and chills within? Even the moon conceals its light, And the nightingale withholds its sound To sink the frozen heart in me.