PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Intractable cold flames now sting my shivering flesh.

These memorable times, our memories, shatter into broken pieces from the journey's storm.

Picking each shard with careless red hands I realize it cannot be.

Finally in a hopeless state I let each piece fall to the earth.

The storm changes.

Snow falls steadily now.

The northern wind blows it's sweet frosty breath against my cold body.

The ground is painted red by each drip my body releases.

Standing still, I see that nothing seems as it is.

I look up, mirroring that moonlit expression, at the horizon.

The sun's advent will come soon.

"Why?"

My words are without thoughts.

Seeing now that my bleeding is worse I walk to a nearby lake.

It too was broken.

As that watery blur appears in my eyes and my lips become a "contorted smile" huffing the pain away I silently dipped my hands into the freezing cold.

My thoughts are without words.

With this last time imagining if that dreamy image of me and you was before my sight I desperately tried to grasp what in reality was not there.

All at once the two words I've been meaning to say to you in this journey are torn apart.

Caught between reality and imagination in this icy land I ask:

Will the sun warm my days or will I be caught in these wintry nights?

Nonetheless this search is sadly over.

"At least I tried," I whispered.

Sweet blowing wind you've witnessed all I tried to do to reach him, please grant me just one request before this night ends.

All this time the someone who held anger at me never knew what I've been meaning to say but now I realize it'll never get across.

But hopefully, in someway, somehow, as I shout out one last time, please blowing wind, let these words be carried so that someday he'll hear and know.