It's so cold and desperate and in the springtime I can't help but think of winter
Where my whispers turn to screams and I feel like I am drowning in it's greys and reds
I wake up to find motivation and sight with clarity
Reborn constantly, like the birds fly south
Frequent and rapid at a natural pace; unnatural beauty
Swallowed by fate and soaked in hope
Reborn and soaked in hope