Dry blood and bone dust
Make up the sand and snow
On the slopes
Cold may dominate
But it isn’t without
The bane of bone marrow shards
Or stained glass smashed
Over boulders while it drifts
Down the purple rivers
And glacial giant ice
Floes
Flows
Nirnroots grow
From the macabre sand
And thrive in the snow
Every skeleton that once
Walked that trail up the
Mountain’s side
Was bleached white
All the same
And their bodies were left
To decay in the wind and
Sun and the water and
The blood shed by fleshy beds
Sinking into the snow
Made from thousands
Of other adventurers
One thought on “Poised to Kill Me Thermally”