This Wicked Cold

It numbs my hands
It frosts my soul 
Plays with my head
This wicked cold
I'm petrified, angry
Frozen, can't think
Thoughts spin in circles
A mental ice rink
I want you to warm me
To melt in my skin
Climb over my glaciers 
Heat me with sin
Please hurry come burn me
A storm's to unfold
Flame me, save me
From this cruel wicked cold.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Situation Avatar
May 22, 2022 at 7:58 PM
Had to get more just to see if your serious. Your serious about the Art. thanks.
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