The house is dark but 

my eyes have adjusted to see 

the moonlight streaming in my room.

Crawling out of a cocoon of 

blankets, to the window pane; 

it's cold where I rest 

my forehead.

The moon lights my backyard in 

an unnatural looking way, the emptiness 

of winter lending to that an alien feeling.

Frost hangs over the short bundles of 

moss, making the ground glimmer.

Trees are bare, splintered poles 

reaching up to the sky, the 

dead leaves at their base 

hidden by shadows.

The sky is a dark, vibrant blue. 

A few stars are peering down

apprehensively.

I return to myself.

My soul had soared away, trying 

to reach those stars for only a few seconds, but

has already been weighed down 

with prospects of the future.

So heavy, it was now, that it sunk

out of my body through my feet,

freezing solid as it touched the ground.

Now I am just a pair of eyes, looking out

with no one to look back. 

I am all alone,

merely existing here, at this place,

risen from sleep by troubles,

left soulless and silent,

my body as alien as the empty moonlit world outside.