What a winter

What a winter,
what a winter is this,
will you kiss,
will you kiss me,
because for far too long I have been in the ice and the snow,
and for far too long I have been so cold,
so cold that I did not know if I did exist.
oh, what a winter,
what a winter is this,
the winter of the soul,
the winter of the soul for i am not whole,
and I have been travelling on alone,
alone for far too long,
and I have been numb and in a state of nothingness,
in a state of nothingness and not really awake,
and no, certainly not alive,
well, not fully alive,
and with no passion inside,
my vision is fogged with the misery of the times,
and, oh how I wish summer would come,
or the warm embrace,
the warm embrace of someone,
and what I wouldn’t give to be in the arms of you,
anyone who cares,
for I,
I am starving here,
starving and unaware,
unaware of love in my life,
well, not the love of my family,
but true love,
a partner of whom in which I can confide,
and I wish it wasn’t so,
for how painful it is this emptiness,
this emptiness inside and so hollow,
and I am of such nothingness,
and of vacant mind and with no spark,
no spark to light up the fire of my heart,
and oh,
how I’ve cried,
cried a thousand times waiting for the sea to part,
and here I am waiting for you to arrive,
waiting for you to melt the snows inside,
the snows inside me,
for I am so tired of ice,
tired of ice,
and I desire,
I desire to be,
filled with the summer sun,
and I wish to be just not me,
for you are there out there I am sure,
but I will have to wait for chance probably,
and the parting of the sea,
the parting of the sea for you to come,
for knowing me and my luck if you came by boat,
upon the rocks you would crash and upon the rocks you would be be smashed upon,
and this is my view of my chances of love,
for I,
I seem to be an island of one,
yet I have no wish to be one,
and I feel each second of the day that I am alone,
and for me there is no comfort just being one,
no comfort in being single,
yes, it is not much fun being single,
and just the hollow shell of someone,
waiting for you to come,
waiting with the wind whistling through me,
feeling so wobegone.

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