Once more the sunset sets a tone tough to condone. Its golden glare a wasted warmth on winter's throne. The mood drops low in tune with last night's fallen snow. But no one here to say it: "See, I told you so."
Space suffice for solitude, too small for supplies. Shack empty and frozen under ice-cold bleak skies. Stayed so still in silence to trot through time trying. Social distancing til spring alone in here crying.
Enough is enough! Fräulein Future? Let's shape her! For I'm all out of patience and toilet paper.
