It's the world that breaks apart from all else.
Happiness has yet to be and invention,
New to anything and everything but itself.
Filled with fresh soil and old collection,
Of ideas passed around throughout ages.
Although never on this ever-so-new land.
Invention starts here in ice, stone cages.
Holding back and chewing at the hand.
Of one man lost in thought for more.
Love does not linger in the air, yet.
The need for survival is the very core.
Even in stone nothing has been set.
It's a world that breaks apart from all else,
Ice trapping thought that no one has yet felt.