I have submerged myself in the cold many times,
The freezing, merciless stings of ice that pierce my skin left a mark to be seen.
So what difference would your cold heart make to me?
I am already used to the heartless cold,
Which drags you along with it with a sheer force so strong,
That the faint-hearted warriors would wish to never see it again.
Then, how could you possibly think that I would lose to your love?
I have confronted the freezing ocean of love so many times,
That it now has become my warmest friend.
YOU ARE READING
You Who Knows Least
PoetryA sequel to my book "You Who Knows Best". Read, and you will find much intellect. The thoughts I share here are of my inner sect.
