Frigid Abyss

The dank and the dark meld together

into a soundless night of winter.

Stars whisper across a

cloudy night sky, scattered

with masses of gray cumulus.

Snow swirls

                                                twirls

            dances

                                    pirouettes

                                                in a graceful, silent

            ballet of sadness.

Quietly, they sing alone

and in duets across

the expanse of darkness.

Their voices are a low,

indecipherable arctic murmur

audible only to the stars.

 

The cold is a sharp, stinging slap

over her sensitive skin.

She wanders aimlessly in her dream

of bitter reality.

Her body tumbles and bumbles

as she weaves gracelessly

through the snow.

She braces her folded arms

against her bony body.

Snow melts on her thick clothing,

penetrates its open layers.

Body heat dissipates quickly

into the thin, arctic air.

Skin is frostbite blue,

eyes empty crystal glasses

devoid of passion and purpose.

It is why she is there

in that frozen wasteland.

Life was a desolate nothing

that continued to beat its

constant and painful reminder

from within her breast.

 

Every minute that passed,

her body grew colder and colder.

She felt the shadow of Death

nigh on her heels,

pacing patiently behind her.

The more time passed,

the more frost crusted her flesh.

Soon, she no longer could feel

her outer limbs.
Desperately, her heart pounded

against her chest, urging her to live.

She closed her eyes and

ignored the urge.

The snowflakes that fell

caught in her eyelashes,

fish in a net cast out to sea.

Strong was the need to live;

stronger was the desire to die.

The howling wind bent her back

and forced her to her knees.

Gladly, she knelt in the

vortex of flurries and wind.

Her body heat vanished,

a thief stealing away into the night

with a precious artifact.

Winter kissed her brow,

its chilling breath filling her lungs

and freezing her form.

Her flesh became ice,

her hair frost,

and her eyes cold, sparkling crystal.

 

The desperate heart in her breast

slowed and eventually stopped

With that, she exhaled

her last human breath.

Winter preserved her youthful form

and infused her with immortality.

She gasped and inhaled

her first eternal breath.

Snowflaked eyelashes fluttered and

peeled away from frost-encrusted flesh.

Her crystal eyes were hard,

cold, and empty as they

gazed upon the frigid abyss

that lay about her.

She was alone in its bitter cold

and its utter isolation.

She would live here, she decided.

The tundra would be her kingdom,

and she would be its queen.

Filled with immortal purpose,

she lifted herself from the snow.

The wind whipped around her,

her white hair flapping

in a waltz of snow.

As the blizzard picked up,

the night became dark white.

She took her first few

and sure steps,

disappearing into the whiteout.

Author's Note

I have been infatuated with the Snow Queen as of late, especially with the launch of Disney's "Frozen." I have always loved the tale and have been reinventing the tale for sometime in my own interpretation. Someday I will post it here, or publish it (whichever comes first!), when it is complete. For now, enjoy a taste of the Snow Queen.

Reviews

[Devesh]

Your poetry makes me feel cold and warm at the same time. I don't know why, just does. An incredibly vivid and beautifully written poem. I love it when people take their time to tell a story, everything is so much better that way. That is exactly what you did here and I enjoyed every bit of it. Thanks for sharing :)

[E.V. Black]

It does not hurt that I have of late been infatuated with winter. :)
Thank you for your comment. I appreciate your feedback. I love hearing from you.

[Devesh]

Hehe, winter can be a fascinating subject :) You're most welcome :))