The Queen of Ice

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All that once was,

mums me,

to a terrible gape of silence,

that airy breath in which no voice,


save the ghosts I hid,

the living, but dead,

the remnants of their laughs spattered,

red across the emptying white,

but no space lingers here in the void,

where once was warmth.

Ah, I blew the candle out,

by sucking in,

rinding the flame from the light,

its so cold, you see,

so very icy,

in their void world of no sleep,

no dreams,

no speech,

no memories, save for the empty echoes,

where I once knew comfort,

all gone,

or never there,

imagined angels,

cut my creases of prayer,

that lived in lie of a hope,

of jollity, my saviour, my pain,

the lie and the light,

I'd like to think it was kindness I lost,

that I ache for something that once was,

but I rather think,

it was the white walls,

and silence that birthed me,

and the ice I sucked,

that burned me into thinking I was warm,

but I was always cold, you see,

I am the queen of ice,

who loves and loathes the fire,

if but only at the thrill of being burned.

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