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