The footsteps pressed deep into the ice,
Are molded in iron while set in their ways.
This path is unavoidable.
This hurt is unmistakable.
This chain is never breakable.
And on you walk,
And by you pass,
Pushing away an unread chapter,
Worthless, yet breathing still.
Expelling clouds of hate in the winter,
While tangling with the beating heart.
Exhale. Beat. Exhale.
Beat. Exhale. Beat.
A seething breath, quite visible
For an instance,
Then up it goes to the heavens
Strangling phantoms on the way.
Only the strong survive,
And with a vengeance they haunt,
Pressing eagerly for no information.
Poking, prodding, twisting, wrenching,
Jerking, working, hitting, clenching.
Always in sight of the third eye,
Exploding from the inside,
And you just laugh and say:
It’s all hisssssssssstory.
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