Ice grips my heart.
I tell myself this every morning.
Blizzards deafen my mind,
I drive with the windows down at fifteen below.
Freezing me to solid stone,
Unreachable by human hands.
Beautiful on surface clear,
Deathly to those that dare come near.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Ice grips my heart.
I tell myself this every morning.
Blizzards deafen my mind,
I drive with the windows down at fifteen below.
Freezing me to solid stone,
Unreachable by human hands.
Beautiful on surface clear,
Deathly to those that dare come near.
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