(Fahrenheit Fair Enough) And This Old Man

Fading sense of relief, within a void of pale greys,
coalescing,
a lacklustre harmony.

A silent sort of static,
as snowfall in the days dying minutes;
monotonous, ominous.

Dulling sense of relief, within these desiccate moments,
fusing,
a languishing symphony.

A skeletal sort of atmosphere,
as snowfall in the days dying minutes;
ambiguous, ominous.

Yet, nothing seems to be missing.