Too cold to sleep and yet too warm to die
we sit in shadows, waiting for the night.
too still to weep; alas, too still to sigh!
Our wings are folded; we no longer fly
but linger near the warmth and wait to bite–
too cold to sleep and yet too warm to die.
They never know their need to say goodbye:
these sparks that linger, various and bright;
too still to weep, and soon too still to sigh.
Don’t raise your feeble fingers to the sky–
you had your chance when you could stand in light.
We are too cold to sleep, too warm to die.
There was a time when pain could make us cry
but now our beatless hearts are wrapped up tight:
too still to weep; too frozen still to sigh.
Now we no longer ask the darkness why.
Instead we stand back and forget to fight.
Too cold to sleep and yet too warm to die;
too still to weep; we are too still to sigh.