the air is cold.

an endless slate-grey
chilling frost-ridged trees.

the wind tunnels, whisking away
bird song,
running cars,
and leaves scraping down bare streets;

the kind of bare you only see in winter,
all picked away by the frozen weather.

the world is a drained snow globe,
so still you forget to breathe.

all you can hear
is the static in your ears
and the workings of your own
organs.

you called me cold,
your frozen fingers giving mine frostbite

Chill seeps from the river
Current rushing over me
Barren tree, standing
Branches listless in the wind

All i could count on
In the howling of wolves

Pull these roots from shore
Wrap me in, this cold embrace
In the cold, I'll become one
With withering frost,
It seeps into my veins
Across my eyelids
The crystals formed
From my extremities
Ice

In the coldness of the day
A frigid breeze swirls past
The trees covered in frozen crystals
And hands that hold as cold as ice
When your heart is mended
Tapped and glued
The frost melts it away
While the fire boils
And embers burn to ashes
The frost conceals all in glasses
Stiff and lifeless in its grasp
If only the frost could render a damaged life
Because frost isn't as powerful
As the sleet that shivers a windshield

Flowers become gemstones
under a frigid blanket
of frost
Beatiful endurance
Reminds me still that all is
not lost

It’s cold, the supplies were low and hope was lost.
Men standing at their post, while dying by frost.
The sight of thousands of tents stretching in the horizon.
I don’t think that the men can’t keep moving on.
Our brothers and comrades who fell in the war.
Everyone knows one death, means one more star.
We will keep waiting until reinforcements arrive.
They don’t decide for us. This is our life.