The clouds return, the brief appearance of Sunshine fading away.

I am cold and broken as the Spring snow settles into my soul and covers me.

My bones are tired. 

I am tired.

I curse the Spring.

The clouds, the snow, the frozen mud. 

The mud is hard and unmoving. Not the kind that smells of Earth and flows thickly in my hands and covers my boots. Dead, lifeless dirt.

Cold and broken, I lay in a pile. My soul is frigid and my heart is hurting.

I fear I will never see the Sunshine again.