Fangs of the chilly night made her shiver
Her teeth were making metallic sound
As if in a daze of fever.
Emaciated creature, she writhed in pain
Cold was blue, cold was strong
Laughing at her in utter disdain.
Gnawing slowly, savouring the flesh
Cold breath of winter.
Each moment, Boreas started afresh.
Weak, though, she embraced herself
Strength, some warmth maybe
Transmitted by Hope, the elf.
“I’ll survive, this season too”, whispered she
“It’s still okay as I’m alive,
“Come bitter nights, cold as stone, I’ll face thee”.
This poem is dedicated to the little brave souls, the homeless street children who don’t have adequate measures to fight against the severe cold of windy wintry nights. While we savour and relish the warmth of indoors and woollens, they strive to survive the season.
This is also a response to Anoop’s post, my friend and a wonderful blogger who tagged me to write for the prompt. Visit his blog to read his take.
Also linking it to this week’s Indispire by Prakash.