A Poets Cold Dark Heart

Soupers say my pen radiates an icy chill. My words are able to freeze hell's fiery gates, which gives me such a thrill! February's cold gusty wind, is no match for my cold hearted pen. Some poets may not comprehend, but I metamorphosed from my wintry sin! My stanzas are arctic and raw, nipping at any poet who dares. I try and leave my reader in awe, with eyes that surprise the coldest stares! I'm always roaming the icy land, looking for a poet to slay. With a poetic tribal headband, I dominate with my chilling word play!