Oh boundless frigid creature,
Born of cold,
Of ice and snow.
From winter henceforth you came.
Birthed from violence,
An untameable rage.
A creature not defined nor named.
Smooth as glass.
In chaos you shatter,
Icy shards slicing through.
Thunder rumbles as you strike your feet.
Frozen ground trembles and breaks,
Beneath your frigorific claws like frosted stakes,
Oh Icebound creature,
Your fury knows no bounds.
A frigid spirit that cannot be chained.
For hidden in the depths,
Beneath frozen sheaths
Your heart burns like a fire, ablaze
A vehemence pulsing within your veins
Bubbling beneath your rigid control,
A frenzy of wrath,
An eruption to implode…
What are you?
Oh creature chilled and fevered?
How do I call this passion,
That thrums through your soul?
You, the bitter beast.
Both sweltering and cold.
By only one name
Can I call to you…
of Fury untold.
***Just a personal poem I came up with for my beloved
Yuri Fury Plisetsky. I may sound over-dramatic, but I can’t help but sense something deeper beneath his fragile human shell. I don’t know precisely what this is. But I know he is Fury. To me he will always be…