My heart is splintered by this winter air,

The still, silent, stabbing air.

It pierces my lung with each breath

Like a hunter aiming to steal a breath.

I look up to the sky in the hopes of seeing what is mine,

My glowing, golden Sun.

But what I see is a burning crystalline

Cloud of white that means to consume my Sun.

The sky bleeds upon me and reveals just a taste

Of my yellow globe. All in haste

I believe until the harsh light breaks my gaze.

What Iong for is a Summer Sun.

This Winter Sun is a shade, a jest, a pun.

My Sun shares warmth I can feel in my fingertips

While this one only steals that warmth and leaves me numb.