Even if the sky is limned in a dull tincture,
Even if the stars were palled from sight,
Even if I began to feel numb from the frostbites and chills,
I will wait for you.

Under the luminescence of the prosaically hoary lanterns,
My feet dug up the fresh soft, white pieces of frozen water sprawled on the winding footpath,
My presence quivered from the arctice breeze of deep icy crystals,
Still, I will wait for you.

I yearn for your warmth in such a wistful tact,
Cuddled close, oh how prodigious does that sound?
As the cold breeze skimmed through the streets,
We tucked ourselves away to drift into dreamland.

And so, by my troth,
I will wait for you.

By the post of trains, I stood thyself motionless,
Whilst immobilized, I desire for this nightmare to evanesce with the algid weather,
For I await the heralds of your warm palms,
caressing me in the following morn, as I wake up.


© AstralLuminary57
(image taken from pinterest
@Artstation)