As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in spread selves\n\nso much pale skin\n\nwithin which twisted visions dwell.

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon [[voiceless]] [[winds]]

As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in spread selves\n\nso much [[pale]] [[skin]]

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon voiceless winds\n\nthe resolve to [[strike]] [[mute]] hearts

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon voiceless winds\n\nthe resolve to strike mute hearts\n\nis sailing, sinking, gone.

This short interactive poem was written by Ben Walter and Jane Cocks as part of a collaborative and creative writing initiative by the Australian Council for the Arts, SA Writers Centre the Digital Writer in Residence program. \n\nWe chose to create an interactive poem experience, so that you too can collaborate on the direction that you would like the poem to take.\n\nAll you need to do is choose which word you would like to inspire the next line of the poem, by clicking on the hyperlinked text. You can restart the poem at any time to make different choices. We have created 8 different 4-line poems, see if you can find them all! \n\nWe hope you enjoy our words.\n\n[[Begin here]]

As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in spread selves\n\nthe chill that cuts like teeth\n\nthe clouds unfurled, rewound.

As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in spread selves\n\nthe [[chill]] that [[cuts]] like teeth

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon voiceless winds\n\nI wonder at this frothing wake\n\nof numbing cheer, the losing light.

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon voiceless winds\n\nI [[wonder]] at this frothing [[wake]]

As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in spread selves\n\nthe chill that cuts like teeth\n\ngrinds weapon hearts to pearls.

As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in [[spread]] [[selves]]

As the [[clouds]] grate cold [[bones]]

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon voiceless winds\n\nI wonder at this frothing wake\n\nof rolling tears, splintered silence.

As the clouds grate cold bones\n\ninterred in spread selves\n\nso much pale skin\n\nthat I hold in my hand.

As the clouds grate cold bones \n\nthat drift upon voiceless winds\n\nthe resolve to strike mute hearts\n\nis summoned from within.