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As I stare into the vast desolate whiteness that covers the ground,
I see myself as my years have passed on in another form,
This forms comes to me when I sit and think alone in the emptyness that has now formed my mind,
But I've almost come to terms of it being what I am.
This coldness in the air only reflected my emotions from all that I have done,
It shows of being white for absence of color as is my think skin which lays over my body holding the remains together,
It's only empty for nothing can live inside it like no one can be in me,
And it's only a killer when long periods of time gets close to you.
We are the same but in a different form as long as I live and am placed in the ground for my eternal rest which I hope never comes.
~Written on 12/21/2005~