A cold, outstreched hand,
welcoming you to him, his land.
A shiver, a tingling embrace,
the look of apprehension on your face.
You falter as he laughs,
you realise he has you under his wrath.
He strokes your pale cheek,
savours your frozen breath, he's in his peak.
He relishes in the pain you feel,
he knows this is no nightmare, it's real.
He needs this more than air, than water,
his passion burns for your emotional slaughter.
Your discomfort makes him stronger,
he only yearns for more, for it to last longer.
He'll do it till it drains you, till you can take it no more,
or channel you briefly, promising to come back,
and give you the real touch of fear...
