The weather man gives me the finger
Says it’s gonna be a long one
Snow falls like a feather weight
To beat me to the punch
It cuts the chord
So the line stays quiet
So I simply shout
Sorry darling but I’m stuck out here
Creeping white
Scale the windows slowly
No power now
Frost outside and in
I can see my breath
Shaped like your name
I hope you find it
Because it’s my last.
Vagabond Prophet 