winter

Wrapped tightly in my own warmth
the fire crackles, it is all I hear
Given up on venturing forth
The memory of cold keeps me here

Sitting still in my favourite chair
I live every day like the last one
Content with breathing the same stale air
Only placing a log when the fires done

I had once ventured out into the cold
Wandered into the dark for endless days
Questioning what strength had made me so bold
The dream I had was lost deep in the haze

I'm at peace with my hopes down low
But the trees still blossomed many weeks ago