The Word Pages

The word pages are all gone,
They were all taken away and destroyed.

The Dead.

The snow came down,
But only where it was created.

The Dead.

How does it feel to take away the words?
The snow on your fingers.

The snow,
Only snow.

All of the hail-stone hellos,
All of the crystal frost.
All of the faces from The Dead.

Ah, they only find new places,
In the heart.

Flickering silver words in the heart.
Shake-domes of upside-down,
Sparkle.

You shall not find that there,
Only I shall see that.

The Dead.