Grey

[Lydish]

As time falls 
so slowly
and snow outside 
drifts softly,
I sit with you- 
so quiet.
This silence is a riot. - I really like this oxymoron! 

Awake some early morning,
dull and entranced,
I await the storm 
behind the cold, - cold hard glass feels a bit cliché to me
hard glass.

Scattered on the window,
ice has grown 
so life-like - not sure what 'life-like' is meant to mean? 
in the dim glow 
of a street light,
cracking as the wind blows. - 

You gaze in my direction, 
eyes of fire reflection-
I breathe 
on the glass 
watching snow engulf mass. - I like this line, but I'm not sure if it fits the tone of the poem..feels less romantic (?) than the other lines

Wisps in shadows 
from a howling thunder,
distant on horizons, 
clash with sudden lightning.

While time
falls slowly - I think it'd be cool if you structure the poem to use the "time falls slowly" line as a refrain
and you stare,
so lonely,
I look away.
Everything is grey.