Nothing compares to the feeling,
Of stepping out into the cold,
Astonishing, alluring, appealing,
When chilling winds rage uncontrolled.

The ambiance of enchantment will gradually melt,
And be gone like the stars at dawn
Who in the daytime hide beneath the belt
Of sunlight that by nightfall is gone.

The spine-chilling marvel then ceases to be,
Leaving the heartwarming memory of bliss,
And how swiftly does the wonder flea,
With a frosty cold goodbye kiss.

Such is the fate of romance,
That awakens passion, desire
But melts away all to quickly,
As reality quells its fire.