• The raindrops fall through the wind of the east, the brisk cold blades of air cuts though, like razors tearing through thick flattened fibers, yet a fire deep beneath roars, like a lions with a flaming mane, hearth of it burns though what is there, a warm font engulfs what surrounds, the shear blades of freezing air, melts like a heart in love, a faint comfort comes like a thief, yet only to last for so long, then what once was is no more of now.