Midnight dreams, beyond the quarry,

Reminisce in all your glory:

Love is gone, the war is won.

Time to leave: hang up the gun.

Cold breezes sneak through unopened doors,

Not unlike those winter nights in the moors.

Jump to the windows to see it again,

But there is only one time that you can win.

At the window of eternity, the window is warm,

But this time it is hot: it is time for a storm.

Sitting back down, the breeze has come back,

And it’s coming in for it’s final attack.

With wind unbearable, I can’t survive,

There’s no way my warmth could keep me alive.

Standing there broken, a husk of what was me,

There is one thing I know, but not what I see:

Cold, dark nights are hard to forget,

Much like those I loved to have met.

“Is it truly over?” I thought while I dropped,

Until finally, the chill stopped.