A man walks through a winter wasteland.
A barren memory of sorrow and regret.
A quiet prison, forced to wander and sulk.
Hes lost and forgotten within his dreamland.
As he tries to pay his blood debt.
But he fails in his duty and all he does is skulk.
He falls He can't stand He’s frozen by a broken promise.
The white starts to encase him spreading up his limbs.
But he breaks free, He can't give up, He can't die.
But he gives up He let's it get to him, He uses hyoscyamus.
His soul leaves him flowing over the rims.
Copyright © Elijah Manke | Year Posted 2017