I died
little by little
with my blood dripping away
without the sunbeam
nothing refreshes me of
the warmth the meaning
the worthwhile of this life
I was betrayed
I was loathed
I was pitied
and I was forsaken
the snowflakes flew in
the draught reminded me of
the first winter we were here
the draft pushed in
the draught stung me
with penetrating acute throb
Let me be selfish for one time
and choose my own grave
here in the dark room
and not to mourn for me
as I had no intention to carry on
no regret no desire and no fortitude