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Look in to the broken glass,
I am exactly what I see.
Colors mixed and setting fast;
burning up and melting me.
Twisted, sorted, torn apart
into any shape, any color you want.
pictures from the beating heart;
pages with strange font.
Walls melt and flow over me.
I stand still and become the wall.
In a see of wax, warmth covers me,
And I'm not scared at all.
Look into your face
I find a frosty White Queen;
cold, with scars that don't erase,
mourning for her cowardly king.
Blistering winds swirl the snow.
Let me lay in it's nipping kiss.
Till spring comes, to rivers they'll go
laying me to rest in distorted bliss.
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Poetry: Distorted
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