Wary Days

Wrote this in a crestfallen-but-recovering state back when...

Sunny days with snow-filled sensations.
The cold void causes a melting of patience,
Slowly.
With each dripping drop
The stream of thought grows dry -
"If... only..."
This stumbling block caused a fall
That leads unto the sky.
But alas,this is death.
A beautiful death at that.
So even at life's end - New life
Begins with ways of old in tact.
Some lay dead and soon to be forgotten.
What is lost cannot always be found.
The space they leave frees up rootings too rotten,
For new foundations to be laid to ground.

Collapse is inevitable.
Construction is unending.