A Synthetic Soul

When the Cold Comes Creeping.

When The Cold Comes Creeping

I've been walking this lonely road.
Thousands of miles tread under these soles.
Thousands of nights.
The cold comes creeping, caressing my skin
while the whole world is sleeping. Should I let it in?

Should I let it in my heart?
This cold is creeping, caressing my skin
Should I let it in?
Should I let it in my broken heart
because
This road is f*king freezing.
This cold keeps f*king creeping.
Can't shake the f*king Feeling.
it's only just begun.

How soon before I'm numb?
How soon before I've succumbed.
Weary, alone, and old.
With frostbite on my soul.
So far away no one can hear me.
Or surrounded by people but none of them near me.
Am I without love, a stray, in ruin when
The cold comes creeping caressing my skin.




51,900 Poems Read

Sponsors