We reached the top of the icy mountain,
It was as cold as a body in a morgue.
The track had been ripped apart.
He did this.
He tore the rough tracks apart.
My heart was racing rapidly,
Not knowing what would happen next.
Would this be the end? Was this it for me?
Or maybe it was only the beginning.
The beginning of the end.
Regret and dread were flowing through my body,
Faster than the autumn breeze.
I was captivated by fear.
I saw the the fright in the others around me,
They saw mine.
We were blinded by dismay.
I heard the wind glide through the glaciers of the mountain.
It blocked all other sounds.
The wind had suddenly stilled.
I felt the uncertainty in the air,
I heard cries, screams, a click in the track.
We were rolling back into the dull murky mountain caves.
The august daylight suddenly replaced with the dusk of the mountain, as we drifted in the dark.