Frozen Hands

The pain it is
of thawing these hands,
thawing these frozen
helper's of plans,
the pain fails
to subside,
to fall down,
unlike my pride.
It just steps
briefly from
freezing now,
but far from done.
Now the cold
turns to hot,
the burning too much
to be fought.
The heat is
more intense
than cold from
past tense
as temperature's
fierce intensity
points in my face
and laughs at me.
Time may take
this pain away
but it can't
in time to stay
so leave I must,
end this race,
to meet my eternal
resting place.