The Ice Cradle

Her arms were cold and feeble but
I was not strong enough to fend for myself
So I endured the Arctic storm until I could
Crawl the distance on my own

I ran wildly on thin fawn legs
In an effort to escape from the blizzards
Now mixing with frosty words dripping
From tongue tip-icicles in my pride

Defiantly I challenged her ways determined
To find a spec of warmth and hide from her
Frozen embrace, yet the cage of arms always
Found me and trapped me once again

As I grew I shouldered the responsibility of
My own perceptions, she was distracted by
The mountain of herself and didn’t pay attention
To the suffering of her kind

The others-they grew in the dark and didn’t
Blossom the way little flowers should and I
Flourished in their shadows as they rained
Sunlight on my petals

And as they wilted hatred sprung inside me
For the mountain which blocked the world
Jealous of my coloured petals hatred sprung
In her too and she tried to freeze me out

But her arms were still cold and feeble
And I burned with a fire of might
Once too weak I was now too strong
So I carried the others with me and
Left that dreadful cave

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