Lea-Seanna Ruiz Gastin
Contributor
I lay in a coffin of quilt and foam.
White feathers descend from the misty sky.
A frigid wasteland where my mind will roam
And the wind will howl a haunting war cry.
A heavy blanket of snow weighs on me,
The flame of creativity is gone.
Uninspired, tired and utterly lonely.
The years pass and winter drags me along.
I scratch and dig at the surface of ice,
My fingertips numb but my heart in flames.
I searched for joy; anything would suffice.
I reach out and embrace what the cold claims.
Once the artefact is found in the dark.
In the snow, I will have found my lost spark.