It is a winter’s night

cold is thick in the air

and my covers do nothing to protect me

from the icy fingers that claw

across my skin.

0

The wind howls outside

rattling the doors

sending a ghostly draft

through the house like the malign

breath of a sleeping god.

0

I shiver and bury myself

deeper into the confines

of my cotton prison

seeking the warmth

that my soul has lost.

0

Had the world always been so cold

or has the heat faded

alongside my life

or maybe all is still warm

and I am simply dead.

---

This is the last poem I have from uni that I feel is remotely worth sharing. It was written during a bout of depression and could do with being more subtle I think. I wanted to capture the bleakness of how the world can feel when the darkness is washing over you mind and soul. Those times where you lay in bed on a cold night and contemplate the world.