December rolls in,
Come here, hold my hand.
Let me save this warmth
In a jar that will on my table stand,
While I would await.
Alone, under the stars.
Deserted, in the rains.
While wind would wrestle in your hair,
Where my fingers once did find place,
It would be my sleep, my peace blown away.
Remembering your whispers,
I will shiver, and fall.
Without your arms to catch me.
But closing my eyes, I will forget it all.
And find myself in your embrace again.
Your voice would be mine,
Guiding me through the distance.
Your words, your thoughts, mine yours.
But, oh, what a terrible way of existence,
No sun, no moon, no air.
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