Cold

Waves. In a sea polluted jostle the droplets,
They - the warmest - dwell above
Battered by the liquid tundra,

Cold, are we, that sink far beneath -
Something less and nothing more,

Settle not we do, as often writ,
And somehow we break barriers -
Touch waves that wish to consume us,

And cold, are we, as the ice that floats
For when the waves devour the warm,
We, the cold; will remain.