Amidst the sweeping gust of frozen winds,
On the precipice of this ancient mountain,
I stood gazing at an enormous vacuity,
The mountains tall and corroded with frost,
Bent and revered it,
For it held eons of memory.
The sweeping winds whisper back a forlorn melody.
Caress of the void,
Dissolute my very being,
Promises eternal peace in tranquil emptiness.
Yearning for the black wings of the void,
To cloister me away from the blinding lights,
Lest my soul corrupts with hope,
I descend.
Now mangled,
I lay over the bed of frozen carcasses,
Of the numerous before met with the same fate,
Numbed to the pain,
With plummeting pulses,
The coldness seep into me,
Ending,
The final flickers of life.
The last of vitality,
And into the blissful oblivion,
I go.
