I have lived long where the cold wind moans,
A gale-force wind that strips warmth from bones;
Where the chill sinks in and bids you sleep
For a thousand years with the secrets keep.
I am not the first to choose this path
Of bitter regrets that fill the aftermath;
A struggling piece of mere humanity,
Destined to live alone, near insanity.
The cold sinks deeper within my soul,
Death is almost welcomed, a worthy goal;
An escape from Hell, and Heaven knows
I search for peace, where the cold wind blows.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 1:55am on Nov 05, 2024 via server WEBX1.