Hypothermia

I wrote this for a contest on Allpoetry,com. "Ten Lines your write inspire by song " Was the contest.

From the colors of autumn, so bright and true,
comes post-mortem, biting cold is coming through.
The colors seem to die, my fingers are cold and stale,
the air is thin and dry, snow falls as I walk the trail.

Branches of glittering snow hang low onto the path,
the wind is whispering yet feels like broken glass,
I clench my coat shivering as I ramp up the gas,
the message I am delivering must come to pass.

As I fight through the snow I'm beginning to fret,
I begin to bow forward and begin to sweat,
I'm too hot but continue onward all of me feels wet,
my mind has been altered but I won't give up yet.

I can't take this heat coming from inside,
on a stone I take a seat and begin to decide,
the heat has me beat the cold has me defied,
bare feet and with my clothes beside.

I removed all my attire and I'm feeling groggy,
the winter and cold conspire and my vision is foggy,
I lay down and fold into fetal position thinking back on how I was cocky,
then my eyes rolled and i keep thinking I'm sorry.

The life that I once lived now has been lost,
the gift that life gave us all is now frozen in frost,
but the message out-lived me and isn't lost,
what dies is a gift and everything has a cost.

Author's Note

Love some constructive criticism