Pure white dresses,
Sparkling silver wings,
All alike,
But none the same.
We dance in the clouds,
Fighting our own way.
Drifting through the sky.
Touch the ground,
Falling down,
Heavy and light,
Both at once,
Yet neither still.
We cover the ground,
A heavy wool blanket,
We do so love the cold.
Wings covered in frost,
Veils; a gauze of frozen dreams,
And dresses made of clouds.
We are the blonde warriors.
Warrior maidens of the north.
There is nothing we do not see.
We.
We are ice,
We are snow,
We are frost,
We are cold.
Winters winds,
Harsh freezing snows.
We are at one with winter.
Warm puffs of breath,
Icicles,
We ARE Winter.
We are a silent death,
We are silver ice queens,
We are,
Spirits of Snow.
