Warmth
I wrap myself up and try to hide.
To hide, to protect, to keep, what's inside.
I go out in armour but without sword.
Akin to a dragon, I'll smoke and I'll hoard.
I leave from my stronghold, charge into the spray.
Hoping my treasure, with me shall stay.
The blades as sharp as any dagger, arrow or mace.
Cutting and stinging as they swing by my face.
My eyes are downcast, though there is little sun.
It seems that the battle is already won.
For now I can see through the horrible white.
How can I just give in, give up the fight?
I try to find strength, to complete my task.
But now I can see it is too much to ask.
Defeated, I give up and trudge back inside.
Trying to regain what I could not hide.
By: Alessia Collia
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