You’re my winter blossom, the one I’ll never regret.
Icy sparkles dying in the wind. Swept away from this cold labyrinth.
We’re tangled up in our hurtful captivation.
Knowing scorn will be born in spring.
So we hold on to the short winter days, the long winter nights.
Praying for the sparkles to stay in our hair.
Begging the snow to cover up this affair.
Till our hearts remain empty and our words paralyzed.
I’ll cherish the flower that was once meant to die.