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Drops trickle down my second skin.
It has been a life time encased in the ice,
my Armour.
The wondrous cold dew seeps the gauntlet’s new pores
Cracking, brittle. Dying

The Sun kisses my finger tips.
A strange, yet familiar sensations creeps up,
radiant Warmth.
My fist clenches, senses bombard the mind
Pain, joy. Life

The armour aches and cracks with each breath,
it splits. Shatters under strain.
Joy in the pain of life restored

My fevered, incoherent eyes strain at your sight,
a smile. Eyes, distinct in the haze.

Do I dream?
An illusion to vex the soul?
Do my fingers lie at the tickle of grass at their tips?
Do I open my eyes
to see the almond eyes were mere whispers of the mind?

NGJ 2013/08/28

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
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Editing stage: 


I liked this one it brought back some thoughts of long ago.
Your last lines:- Do I open my eyes
to see the almond eyes were mere whispers of the mind?
This was to me a lovely memory that never fades, where those almond eyes held my soul..
But that is another story and if I told you I would have to send Digit to your door lol,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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