The North wind blows past, 

Turning pages to unveil the end.

A blurred skyline –

Through the frosty window pane.

Unsure of what waits ahead.

The weary legs follow the wind

Not to ignore its beckoning

The mirage of warmth —

Provokes further steps.

At the farthest end lies a barricade —

Made of enticing ice

Encaged stays all earthly life.

The flakes fall as to reign over —

Abating the warmth of beating hearts

Exhaling sullen, misty breath

Covering the eyelids —

Of the owners of the last breath.