Useless fingers, frozen from the cold, tried to grasp the laces
Nothing was going right. The cold was so bitter, the snow so deep
Then there were the noises in the dark. The sniffs and pants from furry four legs
It made his spine quiver. He took a step and pulled his foot out of the boot
Even though his foot was half frozen, when it crashed into the snow the chill exploded
Daylight found the boot alone in crimson snow
I am synthesizing information in an attempt to immolate my brain cells, allowing me to warm my frozen thoughts about the subject, yet the thaw has yet to come. I huddle in obscurity, surrounded by obscenities used, but not forgotten, built up to keep me from seeing my failure from the outside.
Still hope tries to grow inside though it hasn’t seen the light of inspiration or the nourishing rain of success in so long it might as well be on the dark side of the moon. Should I just collapse this rhetoric into a black hole of consciousness?
Camping by the frozen stream wasn’t Nick’s idea
Rachel loved winter camping so much
After using all her leverage, she finally convinced him to try
Being so cold shouldn’t be possible, Nick thought
But here he was freezing and fuming, trying to feed the fire twigs
Yet even Rachel asking him to join her failed to warm his disposition