All to dust - day 2 / blogmas

Soaking with
Hands sewn to hips
Lips blackened from a deathly kiss
A treasure in open water
Fears slowly follow

I wander and wade at sea
Death soon to be
Cursed from the slaughter
The water boils
Life becomes hotter

A blizzard will soon arrive
Coldness to icy to get by
Sliding on fright, on past light
The shade of light
So cold and hollow

The pale of white
Clouds shaped of eyes
Icicles of daggers
And snow of our toxic youth
Intertwined with a mud so soft to get through

We walk with a limp
Unlike the first with steak and shrimp
I pace with truth and trust
And eventually all turns to dust