Wanted: Seer of Ice

I. Wanted: Seer of Ice, Free from Time's liquor, and worth all of this pain, I thought I'd tell you: Going home today. Stepped in a puddle of unreal blue, it ate up my leg like a factual disease we're never taught to pronounce. It made a home of my leg and froze me there. Getting ice cream from the truck doesn't taste like fun anymore. Having a bounty that is stuck doesn't compose musically, nor when I love mixing my aching joints and fear-furthering stereo into my Nintendo beanie with a hole in it from '05, when we were a family that didn't succumb to the true tune of the world; imbibe, and when, in the middle of this winter past, my 11th chance passed away, an icicle butterfly glittering serenely and nostalgically, its death pure beauty; each new melt better than the last like darkness lurching beyond noon's laughter, when I held her, I did not actually hold eternity, I held the world of snow that now has sic'd a bliz on our happy mem'ries to gather, O Conundrum, you replaced so well the spirit of the death knell that blackest June did sell. II. Two clocks are frozen, their second hands tick back and forth in the same spot, Limbo; Oblivion. I picked you up, then, Seer of Ice. I wanted to talk to you, but I can only hear you in my head, and cry out in vain to an image that tells me my own answers. In the ol' photograph scene, I, an infant, stare up at you, and you quell my tears. You were a Seer, so you knew of our future--our now-- and froze yourself in Time. I never knew you truly, or why you divorced, or what you knew of true love. You never knew that I'd grow up to become a Seer of Darkness. I take the clocks down off the wall and re-energize them with the batteries of lonely, twilit factories, and the lingering magic from the power you still have from within your grave, fading, only leads me to name a price: Wanted: Seer of Ice