Winter Death Poem by Maria O'Connor

Cold.
Gnawing, biting, silent cold.
Creeping in among the world.
Driving the life away.
Soon a normal thing.
Nothing outrageous.
Just cold.

What happened to the complaints?
Where are the hopeful wishes of warmth?
Earth's inhabitants have weakened.
No more fighting the storm,
Just hiding inside as it rages.

Bring back the outrage!
Bring back concern!
Destroy the lifelessness!
Let the world live!

Thousands of people
Sitting idly by.
Their numbers diminish.
Few remain.

These were the fighters,
The spreaders of warmth,
But their fires have died out.

Only a small spark remains,
Waiting for the right wind,
Waiting for a chance to spread.
Waiting.