Cold Sanctuary

Stone floor chipped beneath stained glass,

morning light, pale as a past.

The door swings wide, breath fogs the air,

cold seeps deep into the prayer.

Quiet holds a frost that waits,

a chill that lingers past the gates.

Sun climbs slow, but warmth stays locked,

a frozen hush where silence knocked.

Cold sanctuary, breath held tight,

a place caught in the fading light.