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The landscape is cold and bleak.
I’m beginning to feel weak.
Ice is melting in my shoes.
I’m getting the winter blues.
I can’t find my way out of here.
I had thought the town was so near.
I’ve been walking for days.
I’m in some kind of daze.
There’s a break in the rocks ahead.
I hope they didn’t leave me for dead.
My friends have to come back for me.
Rocks and trees are all I can see.
My friends are in the park playing ball.
I didn’t have to be afraid at all.
While I don't see the image as being bleak, your poem suggests that fear has left thinking that you are lost in a cold wilderness and can't, somehow join your friends playing ball.
Ron