Nothing But the Ice
A cold north wind blows through the moor
Whimpering timeless sadness
Morose beyond fathomability
Like an icy knife cutting through your veins
Your blood stains the snow
That crystalizes your lonely prizon
The blades of the fan that blow from the north
Hacking, slicing, severing your feelings
Until nothing remains
Nothing but the ice
Copyright © John Moore | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment