Frost is forming on the window

Frost is forming on the windowpanes, they hug the glass tight
Waiting in fright for the morning light
They know it'll soon be over, that they'll soon cease to exist
That all they will end up as is the next morning's mist.
Why is life so short for something so beautiful, so pure
Why must the cruel rays rob them of a cure?
For what is perfect must soon falter,
It must fade,
Washing all the memories clean away.
And as blistering ice caresses and dances upon my face
It gently sets my eyes ablaze.
So through harshness and through all the pain
The frost will soon return as the soothing spring rain.