The Beautifully Blistering Cold Morning

One Step forward,
I was carried over the border,
into that fridged order,
as I wish to be a warmth hoarder.

As I open my eyes,
my breath becomes frost,
my thoughts must revise,
for my eyes became lost.

The barren trees,
as the snow-ridden breeze,
blows that ice refined to my knees,
doing so with gentle ease.

In that seasonal slumber,
life will yet flourish,
though trees seem like ideal lumber,
but wait till they begin to nourish.

Cold becomes Warmth,
And Warmth becomes Cold,
when the growth goes forth,
forever conquering Gold.

Beautifully Blistering Cold,
causing your face to blush,
but now is the time to be bold,
walking with a hush.


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