The weather is cold, but the blood is boiling...
Spring is here in spirit.
A tamed groan rises inside.
It's a rumbling cradled with love.
And as the breath dries up from sight,
A feral rage ignites.
Tis sweaty palms and chalk and balls
That dominate the fight.
I'll feel you soon of glacial might,
And lava crusted jewels.
Tw'ar my guide of sense and light.
My sanity rests with you.