Unseasonably Warm the Light It Gives

Unseasonably warm is my heart, warmed further by the sun near wilted grass on a midday forage, whose emerald dew evaporated before it touched my tongue. Unseasonably warm is my heart, but empty is my stomach. Unseasonably warm is my fur, weighed down with perspiration in the rippling air which woke me from my winter nap to wander wilting hotlands. Unseasonably warm is my heart, but empty is my stomach. Unseasonably warm is my breath, laboring to keep a gasp, as every step is heavier then the last in the fog. The fog which permeates the rippling air, and stills my eyes with blinders. Unseasonably warm is my heart, but empty is my stomach. Unseasonably warm is my stomach, voicing it's unrest in the surly heat, as I wander unseasonably through the forage which never bloomed, searching for a meal which never woke ...from it's long eternal slumber. Unseasonably warm is my heart, untimely is my faint ...whisper to me from afar, oh keeper of my destiny.