• This is the Ice Giant:
    A frozen Corpse of the once-blue skies,
    It wraps its crackling shroud around the trees,
    The rocks, the sleeping, both living and dead,
    Hoping to break all, so that only still white is left.

    Never slowing, never hasting,
    Never docile, never raging,
    Time, Space, and all manner of Being cease
    Where this Colossus dwells.

    From its victims it leaches fire and life,
    Yet stays still, ever torpid, mummified,
    Crystalline and impervious.
    Out of reach of mortal hands,
    It spreads Its mists of coldness and despair.