It should be admitted
The iced, shadowy sheet
That lingers behind the ashen
It grasps my hand
Driving me to settle
I used to enjoy wrapping myself
In the gloomy, tedious blanket
Protected from impairment
Then blanket grows thick
“Just stay”
It whispers in the frosty night
Making me shiver
As if the wispiest of nails
Were gliding effortlessly across your back
I lash against its arms
Trying to break through
To the sweet, pure air
Yet the demon won’t cease
Until the coward speaks
I shriek out my fears
And it absorbs them all
They glide away
Like the last curl of smoke
From a rampant fire
So that I may dream
In color