The Cackle
The winter envelops me The season of death, Of decay, of desecration The chill leeches on my life force And the cold waits silently Counting down the minute it takes For the victor to turn into vanquished A wave of cold air Lashes at my spirit Joining cold and chill Giggling at my condition And I? I join them I join them in their hearty laugh In their cackle of celebration The celebration to claim one more victim But I am not a victim I have been waiting a long time Waiting for my appointment in Samara I just didn't know That winter will be the Grim Reaper And cold and chill will be its horsemen For I had accepted long ago My role here is finished And that hell needs another unhinged being