From The Womb Of Fire, Barbaric And Brazen Is Its Flow (31) Poem by Captain Cur

White drifts outline each stalled and frozen wave,
the sun, glinting with unimpassioned eye
contemplating depths of these frigid graves.
Lurking below, life, never to be denied,
waters screaming for freedom from dynamic skies.
The sun's welcoming heat shunned from their home,
its grimaced scowl all its frustrations bear;
but, knows one day the warming age will come
and penetrate deep through the ocean's icy dome.

There is beauty in extreme emptiness
reflecting the coarse barrenness of soul;
where cold transfixes the weakness of flesh,
numbed by its deep touch, unfeeling then grows,
icing over each part, death suddenly exposed.
From this wilderness a mind loathes to depart,
as barbaric and brazen is its flow;
preemptive, imminent, brutal and stark,
stampeding through the vessels of a lifeless heart.

Mavros arrived on his appointed day
encircling in ever tightening bands;
blue skies retreating, taken by the gray,
the fires of the earth his to command.
Here Mirren slept years in uneasy trance;
but, today awoke and struggling stands
encased by the snow, its stealthy advance,
transformed and transfigured by changeling's strife,
born a dragon of fire! remade as one of ice!