Death

You look out the window to see the ground covered in blankets of pure white snow.
But it is not pure it is cold, harsh and unforgiving, just like death.
The further you walk in to it the more your feet sink into quicksand of ice until it has its cold death grip surrounding your lungs.
Breathing is impossible, choking on the frigid streams is more possible.
You are trapped in the blissful hands of death and suddenly you do not care anymore.
Simply because it does not matter any longer.
The cold is no longer foreign as it invades your veins.
You can not bleed if you are frozen.
You can not hurt if you can not bleed.

by ForeverAlone
posted on 10/02/2007