Team Raita

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

Maybe I was not meant for saving Nor for salvation, for deliverance Maybe I was meant to penance For a life full of guilt and regret Maybe I had tilted the karmic scales Askewed them to the extent That they needed to be rebalanced Maybe the red in the ledger Was the karma I had accrued on my head Maybe the ledger needed my blood  To atone my deeds, to clear its red Maybe I was not meant for a life For compassion, for intimacy Maybe all I was made for To take over from Sisyphus And bear the burden that is life And stay in this purgatory