The Ice I See

What is this ice I see... I'm trying to trace my race through the ages Refine the whites of my eyes so you too can feel, Instruct the dark of my will to see the whites, What do these eyes instill... a wavy discomfort so my freedom can't kill A reasoned denial of pacy impatience A duly paid debt of life I haven't lived, What is this trial I cede... I'm seeking to drive a taut rewiring of shifting sands, Recline serenely in shifty chairs as progeny screams peace, What is this due I'm owed... a simple cry of contrition and dutiful restrain, What in ice repeats is the bouncing recurrence of virtue atop a twisted treat