The Cold...

Death races through my soul
like a butterfly trying to escape the cold
the rain falls heavily and everything dies
the look of fear in the
dead ones eyes

I look down to my surprise
to see a lonely injured
butterfly
it struggles to fly wings cracked and all
I watch it
struggle
I watch it fall

inevitable death is seen by all
even dead
eyes can see it crawl
I try nurse it back to health
it tastes
bitter death
just like me now
and now im dead
I did what I could
worked with what I had
I know its horrible
I know its sad
but what would you do if death took everything you had