Here I am shak­ing 

Frost nib­bling on my skin

I do not crave warmth

From The Cold I Rise

On a carved lad­der of ice

Draw­ing near to my goals

I see a gold door

If I could reach it in time

Then I may find rest

Must climb up quick­ly 

Before the steps begin to melt 

Under­neath my feet

The sun will rise soon

I hope to gleam in it glow

In the land of dreams