And the snow is falling so cold on my weary limbs,
white flakes dancing before my eyes
me and obscure the view,
as infinite-
as white-
the wind pushes me to the song of wolves,
foments my fear
how far I have strayed from the path?
Where should I go?
And yet it takes me straight,
into the forest,
into the unknown,
the body is very stiff and numb,
I can feel their eyes on my neck,
it will not be long,
they feel quite clear
and I fight,
but that I did not want to live,
I can not wait for them to come,
I must go on,
even if there is no one,
even if everything is pointless
even if this is a dead man,
I go as long as I can breathe,
so I feel nothing more,
do not feel like they come from,
as they bite into me,
tear me and my meat eating
but that's ok,
still better than becomming a feast for the worms to eat,
I´ll become a part of this pack?
I do not know, but it's a nice thought-
but still it is not yet as far as I´m still not lying in the snow,
still I run ... I run ... run ... run with pain.
