Dead

How can the crow compare to the phoenix?
How can the cold moon compare to the warm sun?
How can the harsh winter compare to the gentle spring?

I stare out my window and ponder over these things
Yet no answers can be found
Is it because I am thinking too deeply?

The trees are bare and the air cold
The sun does not shine into my room
Only darkness prevails

No warmth seeps into my bones
No love seeps into my heart
No feeling is in my body

I know not why this is all so
Perhaps I've lost all my good feeling
Perhaps I am dead

Yes, I am dead