Her beuaty, how scary
Smooth and silky
Snowy white, deceiving
Has a need of touch
Wraps around the brave, blinding him,
Wraps around the world, a childish play
And nothing, no more
Nor beautiful
Nor scary
Like that wreath of hers
Milky gray
Grayish white
Leaves everyone a little dazed...
Her cold touch
And her touch is the only desire
Never a rush in admiring her beauty
Only slow steps
Calm walk with her by your side
In front, behind, everywhere you can see
No place for three world in thick fog, unforeseeable
However still so innocently pure...