Icy winds cut harsh and deep
And mercilessly to the bone;
gnawing on the living
And sending them to sleep.
Icy winds so unfeeling
I feel as though I must be dreaming.
A frosty haze of cold and ice
And dreams of summer I dream thrice
What are such dreams and visions?
Nothing more than a twisted fiction
Nothing more than a contradiction,
Of my harsh reality.
Nothingness awaits me now;
And to nothingness I must bow.