Freakchylde's

I walked alone along a star lit path.
Frozen air kissing my face.
The lonely call of an owl echoing across the trees.

“Give in,” it says.
“There is nothing here for you.”
A rustle of the leaves.

The chittering of night squirrels.
“But there is…”
“Just listen.”

My eyes close.
Breath smoking away from my lips.
Snow begins to tickle my forehead.

Everything must die at some point.