Winter Wind, a Melancholic Poem of the Season

Looking out the window, I take in the bleakness grey

My soul is made cold by the dreariness of the day

The wind is heard outside the window howling

Were it not for the hope of days warmer and brighter

I doubt I would be as much of a fighter

I'd remain in the miry misery, wallowing

But I feel the electric surge of human breakthrough impending

I can smell the first whiffs of the age of transcendence approaching

But the opposite force is also strong and growing

Our marble world groans under our oppression abject

While the clear evidence of this it is considered right to reject

Blind to their folly, destruction looming

Looking out the window, I take in the bleakness grey

My soul is made cold by the dreariness of the day

The winds of change outside the window howling