the blackened ice of late winter,
stillness and the smell of death thickens the winter air,
probably the smell of your withering hope.
And spring promises you a thousand dreams,
budding beautiful flowers by the dozen,
slowly but steadily growing with love,
and those hopes of yours looks real
the heat heightens with a fierce intensity,
so does your passion and soul,
the sand is warm under your toes,
as you bask in the shine of your triumphs.
soon leaves start to grow old and darken,
growing frail and eventually kissing the damp floor,
what had gone wrong all along when it was going well?
you soon realize that it was the nature of things.
winter creeps in with it's harsh winds,
you seem to start all over again,
but this time you won't falter in the long nights,
for there will be a new spring by dawn.
-Syaza Mariyah-
1:31PM in my room, Malaysia.
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