The Icy Pall

There is a feeling I sometimes get; it is a feeling common to cold, icy wintry nights, where the ice fills my heart, flowing through my veins with a brittle chill. I have been getting this feeling more often lately. It is a feeling as if my heart were hollow, void of something, intense longing plaguing each laborious beat, each arduous ebb and flow.
I see this ice everywhere I go, and there is a thawing feeling growing inside of me that is suppressed by my constant encounters with the unyielding rime.
Yet, I cannot pinpoint my feeling's frosty origin. At what point did my temperature turn to freezing? Did my blood begin to freeze?
I just hope this icy pall will soon defrost, that my cold thoughts will once again be even-tempered and the chill will turn into unending warmth of body and mind.