Your fingers curl around me
like tendrils of mist
of icy darkness
in this floating abyss

All around me is dark
no light to be seen
My skin as cold as ice
Your grasp a freezing touch

You cling onto me
Frozen to the touch
as I try to pry you off me
but your grip as strong as stone

I cannot escape your Icy grasp
which chills me to the bone
Thoughts of light and warmth are gone
only darkness is my home

So when I feel your Icy grip
dragging me farther down
I welcome your icy grasp in comfort
as you pull me down

This flower has finally learned how to bloom.

It’s been buried below
forgotten by the world who created its tomb.

Life was a ghost town
When this flower needed help to sprout from the ground.

Now that’s it time to radiate
all the bees are starting to gravitate.

Come back another day bee to collect this honey.

Right now it's not my time to love.

The wind that glides throught the bark of winter trees
Is as cold as the coldest alps
Solidifies me within the cave of time
Your voice dying in memories

Maybe,
One winter morning,
In landscapes very different,
From here.

Brews,
A gentle snow,
As soft as light grazing against,
Water, so clear.

Maybe,
Outside your heavy doors,
You'll walk into canvases of white,
And blue.

Waters,
Frozen still,
Like I wish this moment was,
With you.

The winter's cold,
On freezing, uncovered fingers,
Will feel less harsh,
Than time.

We're trapped,
In a snow globe,
But I'd stay for as long as you
Were mine.

Part 2

The old man sits upon his chair and speaks words slip with spit they drip - drip drip - he speaks but no one’s there. From thought to speech the old man speaks, his words released hang in the mist formed out of air so thick and dense it ebbs and flows and dances with a constant freeze brought by the breeze thus when he speaks the old man sees the sounds that slip from his own lips...

...Each word a sound each sound a note encased in ice the words take form; his thoughts comprised of merging chords which morph into the words whose form is slick and round, encased in ice, shine like a string of flawless pearls.

A burden air can never bare the string of pearls falls from mid-air. Pearls hit the floor with such great force that impact shatters words like bones upon a field where battles roared, souls ripped from form thus die his words; remains of thoughts the old man spoke, words torn apart reduced to chords in piles litter scatter wasted cursed forever to be words unheard like treasures lost, no! never found or heard, his words the unearthed pearls of thoughts he thought and dared to speak though fate he knew would have them be forever lost beneath the sea where words from chords and notes will never see the day nor know the heat when they would shine under the sun though smooth and round their form once was when once the shattered chords were words.

There was a time his words had form their form was round like pearls or drops of water dripped from leaky faucets drip they slip from rusty lips into the sink and down the pipes which snake throughout the secret house, they drip the words words slip his thoughts from lips are lost drip drip the words in chords thoughts drip are lost in sinks forever gone the old man thinks…

Drip drip he speaks words slip drip drip from lips words drip their form drip drip so round the sound from chords which merged and formed the words he thinks and speaks and let's thoughts drip released expelled he sees the strings of pearls his words afloat drip drip the words the sound he hears or heard he thinks once there he sees or saw he saw he knows he did let words drip drip from lips but then drip drip he knows he sits he rocks on boards within drip drip a house where secrets drip, the words, drip drip the sound, they slip forever gone as if they once were sounds which maybe formed the maybe thoughts he may have thought the old man thinks that maybe he just never spoke the words which maybe never were the thoughts he thought or did he think he didn’t know now doesn’t know not like the sound he knows he hears the drip, drip drip drip from rusty lips of leaky faucets down the sink...

The End Part 2

Ubiquitous, frozen river of time,
You know neither birth nor life,
You bear no past, await no future,
You even deny the present time.

All-might, frozen river of time,
You don't even have to fight to survive,
Without an end, you fear no death,
You shatter beliefs and all of faith.

Indifferent, frozen river of time,
Every sailor will meet their demise,
No matter status, genius or valiance,
Nothing extends beyond your boundaries.

One force that governs,
All the minds' madness,
Never to be seen,
Never to be captured.

Heavy chest. Chained limbs.
Vivid senses, but a blurred vision.
Awake, but hope dims
As the bed becomes a grim prison.
It's from these deceiving dreams, I believe,
And the tempting embrace of slumber
Into which woes I'd sought to relieve.

Alas, here I lay.
Frozen senses, but some - sound, sight, touch -
Remain to parlay
Those who love the shadows o so much.
Is that my mother? No, it can't be.
But who stands there, watching at my side?
Could it be my sister to wake me?

The same vague figure
Always at the ready to deceive
And eager to lure
Me, tried and worn, from the bed to leave.
Possessing my mother's sweet, soft voice,
Imitating my father's presence,
Holding me down, leaving me no choice.

Tied at all my limbs,
At the chest too; there is no escape.
I hear the grim hymns
Of that shadowy figure, whose shape
Embraces my body - I can't breathe!
More than my mind, at times, it will ****.
All I can do is hope to be free.

It all feels so real.
To the bed I'm pinned as these horrors
Make way with such zeal.
I can't even scream, despite the tortures.
Breathing heavily, I try to move,
Watching what else the figure conjures.
It's for these nightmares, to sleep, I rue.

There's an avalanche miles above,
I can hear it. It was created
by my shouts of glee
cracking and breaking
the surface of the ice,
causing glittering universes to cascade
into the depths and extinguish
the fires of the ******.
The shadows are striping your body
into a silhouette, light hitting
nowhere, blind eyes gazing at me
in psychedelia.
There's a snowstorm inside you
and it's going to freeze
the chaos within me,
save me from them molten decay
burning its way through me.
I'm buried under decades
of ice, the brightest white,
healing me as the old sun
finally reaches my skin.