Frozen

Frigid, glacier blue
That taints the empty and chilled
Veins of its frozen victim
As icy flakes settle down
On gelid skin, ready
For a long and algid night
Filled no longer with the warmth
Of the swirling stars above,
But rather by frost, by frore,
That shrivels up the once
Painted roses and honest bluebells
And left naught but a
Shivering echo of a bleak man-
He is nothing, barely an
Insubstantial, numb shell,
Devoid of soul, of life,
Pale and colored sickly gray
As though he exhibits ague;
The algor of the brisk and rigid air
Rips his exposed and cracking skin
Harsh and raw.
The most terrible, daunting visions
Haunt him in his frozen mind,
Shuddering sharp, iced breaths
That drags his already
Non-existent soul
Into the darkest of all evils,
The blackest abyss.
His last memory of
The rotting hands,
The demon's hood,
That fatal, deadly kiss
Frozen to his chilled and frosted lips...