Ode of Blue

Cold Comfort

Brittle shards of snow and ice,
Prison you are on morbid cage
Send to a ruinous vice,
Trap by flock of rage.
Bounty upon your head
A flock that’s filled with dread.

Trail they trip to land unknown,
By stone and ice and death,
That bore a queer alone
Of distant whispers breath.
Sudden sensation of your fear,
A stain of heart that is clear.

This prize that you are now claim,
Time that shroud to your fate.
What makes you worth the fame?
Behind this cold and logic hate
And step amidst the one who sieze,
Behind the cold and logic freeze.


Art: The Prize by andreasrocha

Music: Cold Comfort by nomosubu

YouTube Version

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s