Image credit: http://www.northwestnewspapers.co.za
My skies are dark; thick clouds obscure even the faintest hint of light.
My world is cold. My heart colder still…
With one stroke, every iota of warmth sucked from within and without;
Yes the wind! Such ferocity, my life has scarcely experienced.
Everything bows in its wake, my head and my pride inclusive;
Rain, torrents of misery cast upon my beleaguered soul…
Long I had thought this storm would pass.
Long had I longed for but a sliver of golden ray.
My feet have long become dead weights, unsure, so unsteady.
When I begin to feel the purchase of solid ground, the next step, an icy cold murk bath.
The vestiges of warmth receding with every drop.
Cold like the tendrils of a wild vine creeping into my marrow;
Even if I were a vessel of the seas, such a tempest would my bows have overwhelmed;
How much lower can a person feel?
Even when I stumble upon some rare shelter amongst this bleakness,
The elements do conspire and short-lived is my succour;
In my despair I abhor even myself, despising what I have let become…
Oh God!… Oh God!!!