Warmth.

Rain against the window.
Fire blazing.
Icy wind driving through all things living.
Heard from the arms of a lover.

Cold skin against warm.
Blood warmed ancient bones.
Warmth gone from the living,
To heat the dead.

The land dead.
Cold and bitter to all.
All living things frozen.
Only the dead have warmth.

The sun rises,
Giving little to no warmth to the living.
Its normally warm glow,
Only shows the world dead.

And of the dead,
Asleep in the arms of a lover.