It was a dreary December night
When I expended all of my might
Calling from a thousand miles away
Pleading with you to just stay
And make this tundra of a soul
Hospitable and somewhat whole
To be a sun radiating exploding light
A warmth in this cold and frozen night
It was a scythe that cleaved us apart
And left me morosely thinking what happens to the heart
When bodies are made to recoil by the earth
And our souls toils undone by death.
Little Borrowers 