©July 4, 1997 by L.S.Johns
The winter winds that whisper softly echoing
harshly in my ear,
tragedies and sorrows that climax my final year.
Within the vastness of the universe, my death
would be no more significant than a solitary speck of
The endless dread buffeted by the icy chills
that unrelentlessly numbed my very soul.
Imploring me to follow, follow the thoughts of
No one hears my lamentation, does no one care?
Where would I find tranquillity?
The crescendo of emotions have all but devoured
Now conclude my end to a life once so full of
Fist clenched so tightly the knuckles share the color
I am alone in a throng of humanity, I am so
As I focus myself, the end is near.
There is no panic, no tears, not the expected
The long and lonely night turns slowly into day,
as my spirit cries for freedom, peace at last I
The crimson thoughts shall carry me away.
All my dreams how they have crumbled, slowly
each one has toppled down.
The expectation of my youth, my hopes and
desires, lay as sands scattered upon the ground.
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