A cold wind blows on the icy plain.
I shiver.
Death approaches on a horse with fiery mane.
I sweat.
The winter of despair.
I cry.
That smell upon the air.
The stench.
Is all of our hope finally lost.
I dread.
Is it time to pay the cost.
It’s time.
Skeletal hand reaches for me.
I shutter.
Eyes filled with tears. Cannot see.
I beg.
He listens not, clutches me, the pain.
It’s everywhere.
Till I go insane.
The end of me.
Poetry
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This is an amazing poem. I love the formatting and feelings exhibited in this piece you have provided.