• Just the night before I visited a man,
    the vital link to my life.
    He lives, as all like me,
    in a void cold land.

    A land where snow was sprinkling down,
    a place where we die for moments at a time.
    I’ve been in and out,
    felt the searing in my veins,
    held hope in my hands
    only to watch it flutter away
    in a show powdery morning.

    Sometimes I’ll surface
    so that my windows could defrost
    but most of the time I am comfortable
    held within the confines of my icy prison.

    When I first came to this land,
    I wasn’t sure who to be.
    So I took off my face mask
    and became a blank slate;
    a slave to the snow.

    And now in this moment,
    bathed in a darkness all my own
    I watched as the snow danced in the moonlight
    and felt the icy grip of death.
    This time I have walked too far down the rows;
    lost forever in this land of unforgiving snow.