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by
Eliot
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South by Southwest
Poems
Sep 2019
Siberia
You are my wasteland
Pristine and pure
A thought above timberline
Ice eyes so cold and obscure
Brutal breath that sand blasts with snow
Your days cut short so the
Auroras can glow
Deathly cold grip
Tells you all that you fear
Relentlessly frigid fingertips penetrates hightech guaranteed gear
There are no errors made
None that are known
Even the ghosts disappear
in this white frozen unknown
We can invade
But we cannot stay
This pristine wasteland
will forever stay
Written by
South by Southwest
Trussville , Alabama
(Trussville , Alabama)
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