Your fingers curl around me
like tendrils of mist
of icy darkness
in this floating abyss

All around me is dark
no light to be seen
My skin as cold as ice
Your grasp a freezing touch

You cling onto me
Frozen to the touch
as I try to pry you off me
but your grip as strong as stone

I cannot escape your Icy grasp
which chills me to the bone
Thoughts of light and warmth are gone
only darkness is my home

So when I feel your Icy grip
dragging me farther down
I welcome your icy grasp in comfort
as you pull me down

I laugh,
since there I stood
sand running through my fingers
thinking I could hold you close.

By Arcassin Burnham


My intention isn't wasting your time , I'll make sure of that,
Choosing nights where we would blur on the side just like cataracts,
I'll do anything for you , I wouldn't let you down...
I'm your Knight and shining armor of love , lifting you up,
I hope I'm the one that you're thinking of ,not giving up,
I'll do anything for you , I wouldn't let you down...
Cause you're truly amazing....
Cause you're truly amazing....

Senseless when I'm staring in your sight of my whole future
Flashing pleading begging not to hurt you in a world full of
Diversity and chaos like hurricanes knock over trees that land
On your front roof,
I'm getting off topic , what does this have to do with the love I have
For you,

Cause you're truly amazing....
Cause you're truly amazing....

I always say that I let it slip away.

But that's not really true.

Because unfortunately,
To have let something slip away.

Means I would have had it in my grasp to begin with.

Death is the hand
That touches us all
In so many ways.
It touches our heart,
It touches our soul,
Caresses us to sleep
Gently tapping the body,
'tis then it takes its toll.

Its cold grasp holds us
As it touches those around us.
We lament but to no use
For the hand that holds
shall touch us too
In the end.

Be not afraid,
For tis just the hand of mercy.
Fear not, cry little
For quick and easy is its touch
But its grasp,
Squeezes so
That we cry and cry
But it never lets go,
For we refuse to let it.

Tis not mercy's grasp at fault
But we who struggle.
Her grasp only tightens
As we struggle to get free.
But if we cease to lament
And embrace this hand called death
For what it truly is,
We find she follows her namesake
And loosens her grip,
Yet never lets go.
For if she did
We'd not be with Mercy;
What a horrible fate that would be.

I grasp at the wind
But all I really want
Is to touch the sky.