Mountain crevices and glacial cracking ice
top of this world, far from labor saving life
there, above clouds, swim lost spirits
seeking ship's anchor on iron chains
in hope of finding solid port sans storms

winds that whip, whistle and blind
blown from west to east's witchdom
moving chilling fingers of **** frost
drifting, ever drifting, on whirling backs
of howling hound's jaws of vaporous breath

crystalized by uncaring, sub-zero mercury
laid down in tomb's snow and ice layers
absent green grounded colors, now adrift
auroral curtains draped between darkness
casting spells over vast flat expanses

-cec