Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
He was hurt. Shaking from the cold. He felt like there were knives  in his chest. Deep carved wounds. He stood beneath looking up at these crystal clear icicles, that caused him so much pain. He knew what they would do to him, but didn’t move. Breaking off the other end, they would fall down on him. Released in slow motion. Turning into sharp arrows shot off by a drawn bow.
But he stayed.
After a blink of an eye they would hit him. Right in his heart. Through his skin. Splitting muscles and arteries, making their way to the soul. They carried a poison that spread across his body. Aching so immensely that he couldn't move. He was just standing there shocked and yet not surprised. Paralised and yet not stunned. Making it quiet. So quiet that he could hear his heart screaming of pain. Crying at him to run away.
But he stayed.
Eventually the icicles in his chest would melt into the calming and comforting water on his wound. Healing what was cut open. Detoxicating the poison inside. Making him free. Only to get hit again. With every time he felt like it was burning more. The cold ice was like fire in his body. Destroying every bit of him.
But he stayed.
It was like he was daring them. Facing the Pain. Facing what he feared. They were just water. So soft and so wise. So calm and beautiful.  
Only the most beautiful things can hurt you like that.
He was on a journey looking for the answer. A relentless pioneer. And standing exactly there looking up was the only way. He was risking his heart for the sake of knowing what's Pure. Willing to sacrifice everything he is. He liked to believe that it would just make him stronger. That he would get more invisible. But he couldn’t see. He had to keep his eyes in the infinite depth of the ice. Seeing himself being washed away to the unknown. Still standing there seeing the knives falling down on him.
But he stayed...
Written by
wanderlost
90
   Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems