A Whimper

No Spring to melt away the cold,
this endless Winter.
the sun hides in the grey gloom,
each day no different from the last.

Snow gathers upon the ground,
slowing my stride,
blocking my way,
stranding me in solitude.

No one comes for me,
they think me safe,
not lost in this storm,
unknowingly condemning me to the cold.

The wind roars against me,
rips the breath from my lungs,
numbs my thoughts,
hides the way.

Dead branches like claws,
grab and cut at me,
blood trickles down my wrists,
contrasting the grey snow.

This endless struggle,
how long I trudge on,
no comfort to be found,
for this weary soul.

Time brings nothing,
but the loss of feeling,
the dimming of thought,
an eternal sleep slow in coming.

A single icy tear,
piercing silent scream,
torn from ragged throat,
sorrow penetrates the soul.

Pain no longer plagues me,
no numbing tingle remains,
nor worry or care,
it's too late for that now.