Glaring beneath the feathers,
sheltering beneath cold.
The world has become white.
In sheets which fall from the sky
In pieces that sprinkle upon me,
only to evaporate the skin of ice, against mine.
The times when life looks small,
It makes me wonder..
Where I am,
What is real.
sheltering beneath cold.
The world has become white.
In sheets which fall from the sky
In pieces that sprinkle upon me,
only to evaporate the skin of ice, against mine.
The times when life looks small,
It makes me wonder..
Where I am,
What is real.
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