Scott Of The Antarctic Poem by alan brown

Scott Of The Antarctic

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The ice wind dug deep
into the darkened lines
of his broken skin.
Cracking even the deepest crevice
and bringing blood.
He struggled on
without thought for his prevail.

Winds echoed like haunting voices
forever in his ears.
As snow in flakes as large as his hand
fell endlessly covering everything
in bright clear white.
Blinded he struggled on.

His goal was but a day away
as the cold bit hard
crushing his sole.
Defeating his every need
and taking him beyond endurance.

Taking everything that he could give
he walked on into the blinding storm.
Frostbitten, delirious
and lost in the wilderness.
He bent down never to rise again
In the light of the coming day.

Friday, April 20, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: history
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