Breath. Breath. Look your breathe. You’re real. Reality will strike you. But you will know the cue. That cue which teached you how to breath. That cue that that will only get you closer to death. I know its cold. But this is how you hold. You hold this warmth, only to release. Maybe you do all of this to be in peace. What even is peace, is it comfortability? Or is a state of tranquility? But you will never know beyond my words. For you only know the song of the birds. You are a trapped soul. Trapped inside of this man-made hellhole. But it is almost like you did this to yourself. And you lie on your ice shelf. Waiting for someone like me to admire. I will admit you make yourself look dire. But you are only temporary temptation. For I know your childish flirtation. You are but a clueless little girl. Making me feel like the father of a schoolgirl. You only believe of the existence of what is in front of your eyes. But you will never know beyond where you can became wise.