Biting, blistering breezes blow;
Frozen icicles form—
Colder than anything I know—
Trapped within this storm!

Your icy glares could freeze me—
Frostbitten skin turned black;
No one would believe me—
They’d make me take it back!

And freeze tears halfway down my cheek;
From this icy deity!
Compared to you, I am so weak!
And they think I’m this Icy Queen?

How blind does a person have to be—
Not to see this storm made me who I am?
How stupid do you have to be to believe—
This ice was from my hand?

Biting, blistering breezes blow;
From icicles, my skin is torn!
Colder than the coldest snow—
Trapped in your winter storm!

Chantrea Johari
08 November 2005