In the Cold

In the Cold,

by Nate Jacob


The darkness holds the mem'ry of the thoughts that keep the key,
Of hearts and locks and soon closed doors, and shows of mystery.
I have no thoughts to let them fly,
The morning light makes dark go by,
But keeps the bitter cold. . .

It is not the thought of loneliness that keeps me here today,
It is not the fear of self release that bids my thoughts to stray.
Back to his arms she flies from me, two years she'll give again,
A broken heart and broken hands, where I have lost a friend,
And stays the bitter cold. . .

Nights will fly on wings of song as cries I send their ears,
The chill of night will dissipate and I will forge my years,
Of broken hearts and struggling hands to lift their awful load,
Snap, and crack, and seize again, bear with this frightful plea,
No bodies can this fight erase, as chills grow up my knees.

I've shattered hands and shattered heart, bear with this desperate plea,
No more cold, I'll shut it out, there's been enough for me.
Yet. . .
We all embrace the bitter cold.