It seems that you’ve searched here, forever long.
Treading through a violent tundra,
hunting and trapping,
burning trees of spruce to keep your fingers warm
and preserve you from the killing nights.
It’s a fair and chilling wind which compelled you on,
pushing through the blizzards
which ravaged the unwanted wastelands.
But through pain and strife,
harm and grief,
and a numbness, ever chilling.
It seems you’ve found it,
just as I’ve found you now—
Frozen, on the maddened kingdom’s throne.
None of the photos used belong to me
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