Venturing into the pits of ice,
shivering in the lonely black.
It happened at a throw of dice,
losing the warmth somewhere back.

Whispers in her voice flow with the wind,
it’s all around to escape such a heavenly noise.
My chilled voice follows all of those sinned,
with the absence of all of our joys.

What comes next, after the forges and now the pits.
A fortress of despair? Castle of sorrow?
I push on, continuing takings the icy hits,
wishing to make it, hoping time will let me borrow.