Cold Poem by Jean Eugene Guan

Winter has settled its cold crystal icicles
and pierced into the hollow bud
Where blood flowed momentously
Counting every wail of a dying man.
Deliverance, faith, and hope,
none of these was hither.
Neither, anyone else.
Alone, in the dark cold night.
Engulfed by the harrowing pain.
The snowdrops rain like tears.
Makes a blanket on my bitter body.
That is frozen of agony, of sullen inspirations.
Deaf from my own cries,
Blind from my own crimes.
A flame that slowly wilting.
And soon it dies.