IRC-Galleria

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis
Cold wind sneaks inside you
Pleasure center is being frozen
No tender lap to warm you
I's so cold
formation of ice has begun

Try to stop the process
You are on the verge of ice-age
Later, when you have melt
There's only water left
it has replaced you

Let me say it in another way...

Icestick
hanging from the eaves
slowly softening
Soon falling down
Turning into water, evaporating
finally ceasing to exist