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Ice said he would do
Anything for Sun. But he
Grabbed her sunny ray,
And he melted his skin. Oh,
Ice—you were fooled by the Sun.
And vice versa as the Sun was fooled by the Ice, thinking he would always stay; the Sun thought she would never be hurt.

(Written after a test)
Alexis K Apr 2019
It burns.
It's so cold.
The ice surrounds me.
My arms and legs are swallowed whole.
It feels like fire licking me, perspiration dispersing soaking me.
My lungs are no longer working, spasing in pain.
I need to inhale, but I can't.

I need to.
But I know I cant't.
My ribs are being crushed.
My life is being ****** away from me.
The excruciating pain that is this.
The overwhelming sensation.
I know I am dying.
Slowly, Painfully.

I need to breath.
I inhale deeply, searching for the air.
I am met with ice, more and more icy crystals.
I'm kicking and getting no where, I am trying so hard.
I can hear them calling my name, 'just a little more'
I cant go anymore. Their words are not enough
I can not make it out of this, I cant fight.
I cant fight my demons, impossible
They are drowning me.
I can't get out.
Goodbye.
I tried.
Poetress2 Apr 2019
The Penguin waddles,
on the ice, he is graceful,
in his peaceful home.
Paul Apr 2019
First, a tundra in stasis;
a white-*****, emptied book
whose unmade letters sleep:
icy, furled, and blank. Then,

breath; a near audible thawing
of unbridled shapes and mute fire;
now, the bright stampede. Hooves
breaking into the field. Next,

words.
a poem about the process of conceiving and writing a poem. hope you like it.
Ray Dunn Apr 2019
It’s the hunger that drives the Wolf and I
out— all across the icy expanse of tundra.
We stop at the edge. Just for a moment.
One look into each other's eyes, both of us
knowing the other doesn’t taste very good.

And so it begins.
I watched a documentary on the early wolf and how it became the dogs we know now and needless to say my heart is FULL
Dhimss Apr 2019
Glass and ice are pretty much the same.
When hard, and sculpted they seem flawless.
Only, one cuts, the other melts.
To me they are the same. Your opinions are yours.
The sky is weeping.
As the burning star retreats.
To give us some reprieve.
At the Lord's calling.

The sky is weeping.
Tears, sour and rancid.
That were once pure and sweet.
Because we refused to hear nature's calling.

The sun is angry.
The poles are splitting.
The cold is building; waiting,
To freeze the waters that are boiling.

We were warned,
But we didn't listen.
Stubborn, refusing to take action.
But nature is done talking.

Done, warning lesser beings.
For the doom once foretold,
Is at the shores of reality.
I only hope, its not too late,
To do anything.
Luna Apr 2019
A perfect blossom
frozen from a sudden chill
beauty encapsulated
Jenna Mar 2019
Raging river down below
I should call you my foe

Your murky waters wave hello
Layered with a rancid yellow

Breaking my landing as I fall
Hitting you felt like a cold stone wall

Laying here feeling your needles *****
Staring at you makes me feel sick

Thin icy fingers grasp my throat
I didn't even try to stay afloat
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