i set fire to the stars - a confession. part 3: as snow covers the ashes

coldly cuts the beauty of this scene
a silver sphere on the darkest blue
far away, further even than truth;
a false promise
seeming soft white blanket on black
- a shroud on a dream

though all my being calls out
searching
though this moment is without reality
unless mutual
-or thereby-
into the frost flows my strength

under ominous skies
over oceans too endless
-shared and dividing-
already flutters, falters my will