within glimmering silver veils
of frost and winter cold,
the stained glass reflects what i gave –
the curves and slopes i let you paint
onto your canvas, a trust so naive
that you would keep my portrait safe
from icicles and devils of frosted cold.
i was left in the snow,
slowly turning blue, the words taken away
from once rosy-red lips that smiled –
now frozen white and unmoving –
a coffin of my own making.
A/N: I have finals this week (some finals at least) so bear with the schedule please hehe…
Chaos of Life 