52nd Winter

My fifty-second winter approaches
How many more I'll have I do not know,
The cold, on warm, gradually encroaches
And slow the world is covered up in snow.
My body changes every single day,
A little stiffness here and there at times
And potency so slowly ebbs away.
I can no longer run from all my crimes.
I sit and wish that time could just slow down
Or it could speed up and be quickly done
The winter slowly carves my furrowed frown
And slowly takes the memory of the sun.
I pass through chasms lost out in the deep,
And all I really want to do is sleep.