Alone on the edge of the world
A little island sat
An island of fire and ice

Icebergs dotted its shores
Bobbing gently in the waves
Like a reflection of the sky
Each little cloud the same;

The island, covered knee-deep snow
a mountainous peak, looming in the distance
casting its tall shadow
over the shimmering snowflakes

A frozen waterfall lives
Not too far from the shore
Each little spray of water a frozen icicle
Reflecting the bright sunlight
And bending the lights into tiny rainbows
Hidden in the depths of the ice.

And past that, there is a forest of trees
That are still in the nonexistent breeze
Each snowflake balanced perfectly
On its evergreen limbs
And pine needles the color of the sea

And past, a cave filled with glowing moss
The color of fire

And past that, a hill
Where the wolves howl at the moon
On cloudless nights

And then we reach the base of the mountain
And lean on its ancient rocks,
Tired after a long hike,
And listen to its gentle purr

And we find ourselves wandering higher
Into the purple-black stones
And rest beside one of the many lava pools
dotted across the mountain's face

And for a bit we stay,
before wandering off and moving away
Leaving the perfect nature untouched,
Leaving only footprints
And taking only memories.