The White Dance of Death...

As the Frost Princess spreads her icy fingers over the land I come alive.
It is winter where I achieve the most.
It is winter during which I live the most.
The season of the dead is the time I live the most.
Walking in a dead land I dream the most.

As the White Dance of Death speeds up I laugh the most.
As the bitter wind cuts through the bone my heart warms the most.
As the nights become long I stay awake the most.

- by Azahar Machwe