Icy Storm Poem by Nightmist Moonshade

Shards of glass cutting,
slicing knives of the finest steal.
The wolves cloaked in silver
biting their master's ankle.
A slitting sting,
Digging deaper and deeper into your soul.
A gwawing pain eating at my subconsious,
A temptation so strong
That I cease to remember my existance.
This powerful ememy
Is somehow my friend.
My eternal consort
A passionate hatred
A mutual disagreement.
A shaded patch of emotion
Clawing its way out.
A dying spirit,
Cloaked by my enemy,
Shielding me from attack.
A hateful eye
Cast twards this kindness.
As Fire
Ice, Water, Snow
I dispise you so.