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Writer's pictureSpike Woods

The Blizzard Beast.

The blizzard beast is a winter beast

That lives in the caves of cold:

It walks in the snow where the cold winds blow

And it occupies a frozen soul.


A long way away at the close of the day

Where the ice-rain shattered like glass,

A scream cut thin and was lost on the wind

As the great beast lumbered past.


A boy and a girl stood lost in the whirl

Of a snowfall shimmering white

Ans the clenchgrip hands in the cut-glass land

Made an everlong symbol of fright.


So near to the roar of the ice-wind’s door,

So far from the motherlove fire,

So close to the dead and the snow-beast’s tread

In the dread and the awe-inspire :


As it moved like a ghost through the veins of frost

By the boy like a frozen tree –

The girl ran out in a curious doubt

And a terrible threat was free.


The boy sank down on the hard cold ground

And he prayed to a desolate sun,

And witnessed the beast till the movement ceased

And the hideous act was done.


What shape-thing will the future bring

To the pure girl blackened with snow?

The answer is there in the heart of a prayer

That began where the stormwinds blow.


The soft rain falls where the curlew calls

And the cold has gone from the hills;

But the springs of the wind are polluted with sin

And the snowbeast drinks its fill.

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