Sanctuary

Huddled underneath the covers,
I don't want to leave the warm sanctuary,
Of my bed; which is so inviting,
When compared to the harsh cold of the floor.

I know when my feet touch the floor,
The horrid cold will course up,
Through my veins to the very tips of my hair,
And all warmth will have forsaken me.

Here, underneath the blankets,
Everything is warm and safe.
Nothing can hurt me here,
Why can't I just stay?

A fine protection it is to keep,
Me safe and dry and warm,
But I know I must abandon,
My shelter from the world.

We must face the cold and,
The risks, though scary they might be.
We must live in this world, lest we would fade,
Away to nothing, under the covers curled.