Untitled

A silent night.
A world asleep.
A hearth unlit. 
A solitary figure.
A soul adrift. 
A heart wandering. 

The home, 
a catalog of emptiness: 
empty stockings,
empty chairs, 
empty cupboards,
empty rooms. 

The world outside, 
wind worn bushes
ice-kissed trees, 
muddy footpaths
rain-drenched streets,
a sky indifferent. 

Wind whispered tales 
of forgotten joys, 
of loves lost,
of lives wasted,
of promises broken, 
of dreams deferred.

A world in stark contrast 
to the warmth and cheer 
that should fill the air. 
A reminder 
of the fragility of joy, 
the transience of happiness.