December 13, 2012
By Son-of-the-Morning SILVER, Santa Rosa, California
Son-of-the-Morning SILVER, Santa Rosa, California
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Its cold... My hands and feet are numb-but I keep walking. I see the cold white death and death's fingers are clawing at me. The snow feels like rain, feels like cuts from knives. The trees are bare, dead- my eyes are hazy. But I keep walking, walking to what? My death? All I feel is coldness. Tears I've been walking, almost dead. It hurts... I come to the end , a cliff. Ready to jump, to end it all, I close my eyes... Then I see a light, bright and warm. Its been so long since I felt warmth. It grows brighter, but isn't hot. It melts away the cold, the feeling in my limbs return. I feel the cool green grass, feel the warm summer breeze. I smell the pureness in the air, my body is soaking in the sun. It feels as if I'm being hugged. I hear a faint, soft whisper. Someone saying "I love you" I open my eyes and see you. My Angel

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