Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Literary Futility - FrostMorn

An icy grip has taken hold
whipping, lashing and cutting young and old

Facing its icy breath may be too bold
I cant feel my face oh No!

It has the frozen the blood my veins, stone cold
I dont know if I my body can withstand the toll

All I can do is wait for the day to grow old
and hope it doesnt take ahold
because this is the coldest day foretold

[ Sent from my mobile phone using the Blogger widget from www.bluepulse.com ]

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