The Cold

The wind blows soft whispers, in my ear.

I hear the melody of the cold dawn

approaching so close I shiver inwardly

I take your soul in my hand and grasp it tightly

not letting the cold surround you 'only teardrops on your cheek

As you whither in my arms your head falls softly your last remorse on your lips.

Your childish glimmer all gone.

Your face so dear haunts my vision

I try to grasp this world in a whole new light

but cannot go on.

The cold comes for me day and night. Your eyes so pleading me to follow you.

I slip into a shadowy dream. Your laughter filling my ears,

oh what joy.

I scream...