Chill itself walks..

Eyes blink,

The stars among the streams.

The mighty illumination,

Empowers and rings,

The chords within of appreciation.

Winter strikes,

Murmurs the child on bed,

To not skid away the blankets,

As the morning strikes,

School bells ring for,

Dreams have to prolong.

Security men, burn wood;

To gain heat, to warm themselves,

Their bodies, to replace the cold.

Weather plays with the winds,

the murmurs of the morning birds chirping,

While the morning walkers cling

to their ongoing schedule, ever responsively.

Call it pleasure, call it pain;

but the night shelters, offer no gain.

For the drunkards lay on the roadsides,

While the homeless children sleep closer

and closer to each other, to let heat develop;

that's in the lacking for the atmosphere to be.