The Cackle

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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

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