A Journey to the Icy Tundra of My Heart

I must enclose myself in

a place where salty tears cannot venture.

Where an icy cold tundra freezes my heart;

capturing it in its frosty depths,

so that my unbidden emotions are no more.

~~~~~~~~~~

Find this chilly world for me,

so that I no longer need to

face the harsh realities of this cruel Earth.

Send me so that I need no longer despair;

take me to the fathomless depths of

my mind’s snow-laden artic,

where old age and death are no more.

~~~~~~~~~~

Why must people age?

Why is it that as they grow older,

they often complain of cold

as the relentless summer’s heat beats down?

Is it some terrible parody of death,

that they feel the Grim Reaper’s icy chill

as they prepare for the grave?

~~~~~~~~~~

To my heart’s frosty limbo I must journey,

where I feel no sorrow at all.

Where these questions no longer

force themselves to the surface of my thoughts--

where reality ceases to exist,

and I no longer need to face my fears.

Polyhmnia lives on Empire Island, and is named for the muse of sacred poetry.