YuBo WAVE.
A little poet flow to the WAVE.
Entry #5. Disclaimer: -Untouchable-
You think you are untouchable don't you? You believe that no one will ever be able to touch your soul. Your core has yet to be breached, you have only suffered physically as scratches and scars mar your flesh. Still, you smirk. They have cracked your exterior and your cold shell has taken a beating but the spirit you keep locked away is out of their reach. The bird is caged, but its wings protrude from the metal bars. They can be touched, barely, before they are jerked away. You are not as impervious as you think you are. Those feathers must be ruffled by now. You need someone to smooth them. Would it be such a travesty for you to accept that, before they are clipped and when you can never sore free again. One hand will make contact, whether the right palm of God or the bone fingers of the Grim reaper, it will happen Boris. However, before you die, I want my hand to be the first.
These icy tips will not freeze you, nor will I let you blow me away. -EndE-
It will happen.
Us.