Cold wind blows in lonely desolation, snow upon snow,
Row after row along undulating hills in shrill sound
Deafening even thoughts bought at the precious price
Of returning here, but my soul steered as heart veered
Off course once again — so insane and bane of my life.
Cozy cove invites me inside, though, to hide and abide
Against frozen death outside, offering comforting grace
For misplaced judgment made in abundant, dizzy misery
Of such an obviously torn, forlorn and repugnant soul;
Ah! the hole in my heart cannot be filled by empty cove.
Falling on my knees, crawling, bawling for what I need,
For mercy, but I’m thirsty but unworthy to drink or feed,
And the poison seed in my mind binds me here, so drear;
No one near to hear or endear, or to drive away the fear;
Ah! but she does appear! And what does Sélená say?
“Come! Do not here stay! Stand and obey; come my way;
Back into the light of day, in my warmth, and do not stray!
You’re being a fool again, crying a pool of wasted tears!
How dare you run away once more to this lifeless place?!
Do you not have space enough in your grand imagination
For more than this pointless agitation and deformation?”
So I bow and stand, swallow self-pity and follow Sélená
Away from putrid trove of despair, out of mountain lair
And dark cove, into the open air, where she spares me
Of killing cold with strong, warm hold, inside of her fold,
And my heart feels bold again, as I regain life’s mould;
But will I ever learn never to return to the damning burn
Of cold and lonely desolation, sealing my own damnation?