I lurk between skeletons.
A winding path with scattered
f o o t p r i n t s .
The frigid breeze pierces my skin, and leaves my soul
e x i t i n g
through my mouth.
Since I am now one of the abandoned, maybe I should make companions out of the
d e c a y i n g
leaves.
They won't leave me like you have.
The skeletons perform a foolish dance as the wanderers run through.
Running away for a shelter because they don't want
t o   b e   f o u n d .
. . . am i one of them now ?
If you find me, where will you take me?
Will you send me to the silent moon, and let me sleep in peace?
Or perhaps, you'll punish me with the flames of the sun?
...If that happens, will my ashes become the falling snow?
...but I've already ready fallen, haven't I?
As I lie there, soulless, in the remains of my comrades,
I look up, to see the midnight sky, and the glare of your
s c y t h e
illuminated by the moonlight.
Your cold hand touches my shoulder.
y o u ' v e
            f o u n d
                       m e .