Cold Poem by James Grengs
Cold
The chill air seeps into my clothing,
Stripping away all pretense of who I am.
I am reduced to the core of my being-
All secrets,
All lies,
Gone.
The cold is alive,
Breathing.
It knows me,
It wraps itself around me,
Embracing me in a windy hug.
I love the cold, as it loves me.
I embrace it,
As it embraces me.
I live in the cold,
Eternal;
There is no warmth in me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 9:07:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I hope you are speaking figuratively in it's entirety...cause I sense some genuine warmth. :)