The wound of the storm,
That the rain deepened,
The wind froze,
The fires scorched.
Lying there dead of the mind,
A comatose of the soul,
Beaten deeper into the cold earth mercilessly.
A light I couldn't see,
Rose over the horizon,
If only I would lift my head,
To see the lantern.
That shone through the grey rain.
Maybe I could have thanked you,
Before death took me.