Drips turn to snowflakes
the cold takes shape as a queen
From dark until light
she draws us near
we dance around her,
her chill creeps to our center
leaves us motionless
and we fall to the ground.
Winter reigns as the cold and vacant.
Our horns have all fallen down,
and got lost under pilled snow.
The creatures sleep,
their heart beat very slow,
a vacuum is on their eyes
and nothing warms the land.
So we fall to the ground
and lay long in a bliss of freezing,
blood wetting our mouths
and flowing down the mountain side,
until I grow young again (shadows descend).
