PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Where the evergreen grows steep,

And the ground is snow white skin deep,

I am the one with an axe,

And I've cut my hopes to sleep.

Memories hurt more than to die,

And I've held the slightest thread tight,

Yet I'm consuming my will with frostbites,

And home was nowhere to be felt within sight.

I hope i can make it through the snow,

Else my eyes will turn for green,

Greener than you'll ever know,

And this axe will stay with me.

If you decide to search for me,

Then take my axe,

And cut down what you will.

I'll close my eyes 

And finally rest in peace,

As the world around me is no longer green.