It’s time to wake,
And smile a smile
That forever was fake.

But now you venture,
And wiggle your toes.
Springtime is winning;
The frost is thinning.
Your slumber is over;
You’re greeted by foes.

The numbness of cold is fading,
But still you shiver.
Your body is aching
As your wings unfold.

Nothing can hurt when you’re numb,
But ice melts,
And you come undone.

The freeze can burn
As it then drifts away.
And a part of you wishes
That it would always stay.
After it’s gone,
You’re left too raw.
You’ve experienced the silent scream
Of Frostbite.