A cold wind chilling my summer-soul -
desiring rest as the seasons change,
yet drawn to the ice, so pristine and beautiful
a raging storm which I cannot tame.
Words as silk, yet give no warmth -
calling to my depth...my center -
He is the dagger to my summer- heart,
my love, my death, my winter.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
A cold wind chilling my summer-soul -
desiring rest as the seasons change,
yet drawn to the ice, so pristine and beautiful
a raging storm which I cannot tame.
Words as silk, yet give no warmth -
calling to my depth...my center -
He is the dagger to my summer- heart,
my love, my death, my winter.
