Frosted Glass



Looking through my frosted glazing.

A winters Sunday morn.

The piercing coldness, so bitter.

A wind like razor blades.

And my somber music plays.

The slivering venetian blinds, so bland.

Hiding little of the external Arctic chill.

A frozen sparrow lays on the sill,

Ready to fall, on dirt, so icy.

A meagre frigid offering,

To the polar Snowlord.

And I’m like a blizzard’s statue,

Shivering to the core.

Riveted by my eternal score,

Leonard’s, Avalanche and more.



Published by Dead Donovan

SlasherMonster Magazine

14 thoughts on “Frosted Glass

  1. At first i thought twas DD’s work and was bout to say..”WOW….i didnt you can be so gentle and in your words; as obvious as it seemed i am used to your monster side lol”….but well..well….its Ivor…well done guys..🤔🤔🤔

    Liked by 3 people

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