Author: Bianca
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Winter
White christening, Snowflakes on tongue, The cold grips me tight, I try to lunge away from her, I try to find higher ground, Yet her sharp teeth dig into me, Bite down to the bone, Rip and shred, Her lips are an eternal frost, Frigid as a burning flame, Stony, bitter and cool, Glacial eyes… Read more
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The Path
The path forward is dark, There are no torches to guide us, They have snuffed them out one by one, The path forward is long, It is twisted and arduous, There is no way to know how further we must crawl, And yet we must crawl, Through the dark and wind and rain, We must… Read more