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Confronting A Dead Snow
A tool for the reaper
Your coldness associates you with death
Cold as ice,
But ice isn’t death
Ice is a warm summer sipping lemonade
Your harmless appearance gives you away
Slipping down from the sky you are too innocent,
You are more the day after
The reaper has done his job and you try to cover it up,
But I see through your charade
I watch your suicidal act
Giving yourself up for your master
Little shreds of soul
Finally laying to rest, but taking another on your way down
Your sentence is served as you land on a drooping green leaf,
A warm tongue,
A capped head
No guilt for the life taken so you could fall
But your not the one put in front of the judge
Now I am the judge and you’re in jail
But that’s not enough I’m waiting for the day the world sees your true colors
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