Dog Sled For A Tomb.

Tue, 05/09/2017 - 10:47 -- Neftee

The cold is numbing.

Like morphine it trickles through my bones.

It seeps into my fingers and it grips my balls.

It kisses me like an abusive lover after the beating.

The cold is comforting.


The cold called to me.

"My good man, rest a little."

"No, I have to keep it up."

"Be my friend, Look i'll give you peace."

The warmth of death. I feel it.


The cold is all I feel.

Every ounce of feeling is cold.

You bastards will remember me.

even as your old.

Even as your daughters become whores.

You will remember me.


Here I lay.

19 years old on a frozen tundra.

Abandoned by the cause, and left alone.

My dogs froze hours ago, so I am all alone.

Oh well, here I go.







Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741