Winter. (Poem)

The biting cold nips at me, Though the sky calls to me yet. The swirling snow and fogged breath Clouding view in warm street lights. Crackling fire, and a warm love In secret company now, Deep in a forest, hidden. Do not seek what is not obscured. Much like hate, cold causes weight Upon the heart, and those close by. Open, staring at quiet Beauty. Look to the bounty. Some are bitter, like this chill. Hating warmth between two still. Haunted by their own whispers, Leave them to their own, forever.