Whistling wind howls in your ear
Your breath comes out in fogs and huffs
Standing atop a flat hill of red sand
the sound of thin, dry branches scratching rocks
a flash of grey fur and a squeal breach the silence
once so heavy you could hear your own heartbeat
The Sun has begun to set
The rays seeming to match that of water
Staining the blue sky with oranges and pinks
****** fingers tearing at the mountains
As the Sun fights to see your face longer.
You breathe in the dry dusty air


And scream until there is none left in you