Creating Shadows

A pure essance
Naturally drawn
From Heaven's blooms,
Like petals
They softly fall
Unlike our dreams
Which shatter,
Our own shards
Of broken ice.
The quiet crystal
Covered by cold snow
Numbing wounds
Which, when opened
Show bright red
Sings of life,
But the snow just
Blankets it again.
Prentending to make you forget
To indulge in the
Pure essance
Tasteless, smelless, cold
Devoid of life
Trying to cure you of breath
Slowly. slowly numbing your senses
There is a peace in this soundless world
A sense of belonging
To nothing
Such a desparring loneliness
Don't touch the snow
The sacret white petals
From Heaven
Were only made for the angels,
Pure and untouched
Clean without the
Untrden slush
Of our pasts
The snow
Only falls for
The precious angels