Water seeps through melting ice

rising, falling,

heavy breaths

sighing with relief.

Once again

there is room to breathe

for the one trapped beneath.

It can breath the icy air

and feel the cold wind upon its surface

and reach above the ice,

like a zombie erupting from it’s grave.

It can once again seek revenge,

built while spent confined within itself.

Revenge on every foot,

that trampled its unseemingly

passable shield

of death and frostbite promises.

It pities the thought

of how many lives it ended

because of an unstoppable event

that happens every year

without warning

and without pattern.

So many lives gone,

because of hunger,

need for air,

and because of the icy surface

so hated.

Nonetheless

it can not be prevented

for every cold winter wind,

or fall of icy snow,

something is likely to happen,

to surface,

to be created,

to create waters

own deadly prison.

Creating a trap,

and confining it

in its own

icy skin.