The legs weaken, frozen cold. The body shivers, the coldness of that word. The mind stops, frozen in time. The heart races, against the cold wind of that word. The eyes cry, facing the frozen air. The word is as cold as winter. The word is, death.
Inside, there is fear. Shadows surround me, the vultures circle. Inside, there is silence. Quiet whispers of woe, locked within me. Inside, there is pain. Their echoes leap at me, sharp as spears. Inside, there is darkness. Surrounded, circled – and alone.