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    DynoReads
  • DynoReads
  • Author
  • 12/27/2014
  • 178 Words
  • 979 Views
  • 8 Comments
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Winter's Fury - 1. After the storm

A winter's storm predicts a terrible deed. Will he complete his plan, or will the ice stop him in his tracks?
*warning this poem concerns an attempted suicide*

With howling winds and rain in icy sheets,

Nature mourns what is to come.

Dropping temperatures preserve her tears:

giant icicles hang from branches, droop from eaves.


 

The sun peeks over the horizon,

the wind dies down, all is silent.

Sun light glistens on frozen trees,

dances across ice wrapped bushes.


 

Inside, unaware of the frozen beauty,

he makes his plans.

Writes a letter, loads his guns,

no need to pack this trip.


 

A front door slamming

shatters the morning calm;

determine strides crunch new fallen snow,

an engine roars to life in the frosty dawn.


 

Sure strides, a slip, a fall….

Arms thrown out, the rifle drops.

A loud retort, a single shot,

red drops splatter the pristine snow.


 

The engine chugs happily,

waiting for the man who lies upon the ground.

The sun climbs above the horizon,

the only witness to the tragedy below.


 

A sputter, and silence.

Fuel consumed, the engine sleeps.

Man and his machine, both at rest.

Nature mourns a life ended too soon.

The events described here did happen. A man planning to kill himself at his hunting cabin slipped on his icy steps and accidently shot himself. Instead of finding a note and calling the police, his family found his dead body, a horror he had hoped to spare them.
It takes a lot of work to plan a suicide. If you are, put your energy into reaching out instead: National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-TALK (8255)
Copyright © 2015 DynoReads; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

ColumbusGuy

Wow, Dyno...words fail me completely. I can so easily envision the family's discovery, having had such a tragedy impactme twice--once by one of my nephews' success, and the other by my last boyfriend. I can understand what caused it, but the feeling remains that I could have done more to prevent it if I'd only known...particularly in the latter instance, where I'd seen him less than a month before he died.

DynoReads
On 12/28/2014 12:55 AM, ColumbusGuy said:
Wow, Dyno...words fail me completely. I can so easily envision the family's discovery, having had such a tragedy impactme twice--once by one of my nephews' success, and the other by my last boyfriend. I can understand what caused it, but the feeling remains that I could have done more to prevent it if I'd only known...particularly in the latter instance, where I'd seen him less than a month before he died.
I think that is the worst part of a suicide. The guilt and helplessness of those left behind. I should have known. I should have seen. I should have done something else. When there may not have been anything anyone could have done.

 

Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.

DynoReads
On 09/19/2015 01:12 PM, keyisfake said:

Years ago I came that close, but the thought of who would raise my kids jumped into my mind. Life is still a struggle but I decided to focus on my kids and pour my anger and sadness into my writing. I write a lot.

Deep story, thanks for writing it.

Thanks for the review.

 

This poem is the most difficult for me. I saw the guy mentioned about half an hour before he fell. It still haunts me.

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