Come
by Nawson
Come
All is quiet
The wind whistles through the ice
An echo comes from underneath
A voice whispers
From the rainbow pools of ice
Clouds drift overhead
The caps of snow glisten with molten gold
The smell of fresh air chills
Staring out to the horizon
The rainbow horizon
The sky a benign blue
The edge of existence a malevolent red
Below, below
Nothing exists
Yet above, above
The silence of snow is infinite
All you can see is not all there can be
The hope of the mountains glows
All is quiet
Quiet
Quiet
Dream
Dream
And come
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