Beyond A Cold Breeze

A soul takes me,

to edges of seas.

At times breeze

chilled I receive.


Colors do leave

leaves in a tree;

reborn are green

unto the spring.


A cold approach,

make tears most.

Fallen is a hope

in cold’s growth.


This ship I’m on,

warmth my song,

fathoms beyond

heals my wrongs.


My ears need me

when I can’t see.

Survive I try to be

better parts of me.