Theme: Depression

Cold Caller

The ice spectre returns.

Armed, with crystal bow, it shoots
Poison arrows of blue
Malevolence at her outer shield;
Shattering it into a thousand splinters.

Shards of icicles melt misery
Through the depths of her mind,
And touch her warmest memories;
Slaying those Praetorians of her life.

Her spirit shivers, stunned
By the frozen onslaught.

From behind the veil a luminous hand beckons.

The warmth of death awaits.


More By  :  Stephen Watson

Views: 1413     Comments: 0

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