The abode of the nightingale is bare,
Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,
The fox howls from his frozen lair:
Alas, my loved one is gone,
...
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(Alone by Walter de la Mare.) **Death. Aloneness. Winter. A poem that mirrors life.
This poem is deep and he sees no good thing since his loved one is dead. Many ppl can relate to that I have at one point but it gets easier.
To be alone is so saddening most time, especially when one is missing someone. And 'it is winter'.