The Lonely Blizzard

My first ACTUAL poem

Frigid wilderness plagues my medium
being exhausted is a burden too heavy
I wonder when will the storm end?
It has been raging on for several days and several long some nights
In the distance, is a tree, its roots are slowly rising up
The wind acting as if the right hand of the storm

I fight my way through the barely visible paths
I feel almost lost, lost in the storm
The storm punishes you with wet snow and heavy walks
The wind likes to laugh at your face as you tremble
It's a menacing laugh, one, I don't see the joke in
And the storm, gray with melancholy, weeps and tears from the sky

I have had enough of this drama
My own friend in this battle is leaving, for he cannot even take the heat.
Its getting colder, and I know I must pass on alone
I can feel the warmth, she must be near
I know I keep going, on my own, alone.
I can be strong