Chilling Winds

I find the coldest of winds move me the least - As I brace for frigid agony. I stand as stone, almost deceased - Ironically enough amongst ebony. We wish for warmer times, warmer winds, A time where we could run about trees, It’s like a punishment to have those memories, As we slowly pass while we freeze. Then when those warmer winds come we forget, We pretend that the cold winds never existed. It’s not ‘til amidst the cold we regret, To be outside in a frozen storm, twisted.