frozen sanctuary

trudging on in winter,
the mind begins to wander.
not warmth opposed to calm,
neither snow against the palm.

the flesh is cold, my heart,
still so? Sold to an idea,
that yours is still quite hard,
soft and weak – inferior.

questions that make ponder
a wonder, see your splendour!
a fit of psychosis,
to see you, a synthesis

of what i think i know,
perhaps what you thought to show.
doesn’t matter, the heart
is cold, warm me up, give up

giving me up to a
white demon, my angel see;
sleep is my solace, but
you are my sanctuary.

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