Tis the season, I suppose
to feel the chill of something missing
That meaning you’ve been searching for
and still eludes you to this day
It always slips through tightened fingers
disappears into the void
so loose and fleeting
you’re never really sure what’s there
All you know is, for a moment
it felt so real and warm and true
But moments always have an ending
and now you’re left with memories
that sting with loss and acrimony
to match the icy air beyond
