Poetic-Verses

shaken but not stirred

I see a withering when the frost takes hold
I feel the chill ,then numbness to my bone's
I hear chants in whispers slowly getting louder
And madness drifts down like talcum powder.

The whisper turn to screams! control gets lost!
Gasping for air my throat burns from the frost;
Trying to stay calm and holding it together
The evilness of winter will stay with me for ever;