The wind is blowing fast.
The leaves trying to hang on to the trees.
It's a losing battle, but a battle worth fighting,
The air is cold and bitter, just like the winter has been.
The combination of both is foretelling.
People run for the shelter of the warmth,
I have found shelter but not the warmth.
I am chilled to the bone, to my very core,
I ache allover, and yet seek no relief, I wont