It's dark
It's cold
It's damp
It's empty

No.

It's gloomy, no light of any kind
Heat extinguished, just like hope
Dense, choking air, a sense of dread
Nought but the sound of breath and a beating heart.

No

Fog shrouding the area, blurring lamps flickering, wavering
Rustling leaves and fear, like ice pouring through veins
Rotting, decaying wood stench filters through the air
Blurred shapes, thunderous drumbeats and hasty exhalations

Once again I've fallen asleep in the shed