when you stop believing in yourself
you know the winter comes
with winds thrushing in like
the light sneaks in through aperture
the moment is frozen
your memory is gelid
nothing goes further
no progress is spotted thereafter
you feel a small piece of sleet falling on your lid
none of the pressure or syndromes are slacken
your unquiet mind and sanity just cannot make peace overture
you thence turn into a spike
there your vita goes
when you realize you've lost yourself
you know the severity will not touch you
because you will not feel the pain the chill
nor the warmth the stamina the breath