Winter in Siberia
Imprisoned for the crime of Mania,
For the wildfires and hurricanes
I set in motion and rode upon,
Retributive justice is served.
I must now spend winter in Siberia,
For an indeterminate sentence,
The sole and lone inhabitant
Of a penal colony,
Carved out in the abyss,
Where the sun never rises.
My thoughts are my inmates,
My restless tormentors,
I am bound and chained
But they are not.
They crowd the room of my mind
Like sardines in blackwater,
The cold burns and scathes,
I am frostbitten and pneumonic
Above and below the skin,
This winter will not end in spring.