So Cold

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
In a world of ice, sleep beckons.

Submitted: October 22, 2016

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Submitted: October 22, 2016



So Cold


Tendrils penetrating,

going straight to bone,

a shivering takes over --

there is no going home.


I have found the entrance

to a world that’s made of ice,

the torturous consequences

really not so nice.


A shattering of crystals,

a blade of frozen steel

has taken any heat and

any warmth that I could feel.


I’ve plunged into an Arctic waste

with a brittleness of glass,

a snow-bound field of nothing

is all that I can pass.


I huddle up inside myself

and head off in the snow,

there is no indication saying

which way I should go.


I’ll stumble through a blizzard,

try to shelter from a gale

but there is no escaping it

and I can only fail.


A hyperthermic rhythm

has entered in my heart;

the numbness that is frostbite

is surely soon to start.


The icy haze that’s drifting,

that makes my vision cloud,

is all that I can sense and feel

until you say my name aloud.


I’ll try to latch on to your voice

to let it bring me back,

but the energy to make a move

I find I surely lack.


There’s something just so comforting

from a blanket made of snow;

I’ll let it bring me endless sleep,

if you just tell me so.

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