Final Moments

Just a simple poem

Glass doors line the wall,
ice will cover all,
so weak I nearly fall,
and amidst it all,
if I can recall,
time is growing thin,
a risk running tall.

The last days of I,
the fright faces me,
suddenly,
to my side,
faces he,
through the door,
I can see,
through the ice,
faces more.

Snow is blown about,
no face, no feeling,
no more need to shout,
no more need to fight,
I've all but run out,
I am leaving,
I have lost my sight.
As I'm lost in the night.