The Cold Path

Over the high slopes of snow the frozen beast lays

In deep slumber he rattles his tail and shakes his pearly fur

Its honed fangs caged behind the his purple swollen gums

As I treck up the treacherous stairs that lead to a winter asylum

My feet are numb, but my heart is warm with the fire of perseverence

My dreams are far away, but my strenght is high ready to face the frozen beast.

This poem is about: 
Me

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