It's a brand new day
The chilly feeling of an early morning
Everything silent still, not yet awake
Only the Poet roams the desolate streets

He looks sad, is something wrong?
The Poets response, a fleeting glance
A long deep sigh that reeks of pain
The kind no doctor ever heals

His thoughts are far from the hoar-frosted streets
Where he steps, he does not know
Nor cares he of that insignificant fact
He's already reached his journey's end

The rising rays just touch his eyes
He's not blind, not quite just yet
The beauty of this mortal world
And cruelty, in full magnificence

His senses are heightened, his mind is calm
His body shaking of barely controlled sobs
For even now, he's too contained
But rest assured, he can and does feel

What happened the night before
That kept the Poet wide awake?
What made him come amongst the pines
And caused his soul to scold him so?

There could be no reason but the one
That's been burdening him hard for months
A fear so deep it's unbearable, unthinkable
He's been tortured, it's clear by now

There's nothing left, nothing to do
It's all been said, made crystal clear
Just one thing now, needed to be done
Beneath the branches of the forgotten woods

The rising sun can compete no more
His dreams block out the earthly sight
While ever so slowly he embraces the dark
And the ice crystals, they embrace him too

When they find him, he's at peace
A hint of a smile, the pain is gone
And when she hears of his meaningless dreams...
But that's another story entirely.