It’s a mere little crack, somewhere close.
You don’t know how deep, how far it goes.
It pulls, moans, stretching as you breathe-
Infringing cold, like daggers unsheathe.
The blue of the chill congeals and spreads,
In thin, green veins, from extremes, inwards;
The blood rushes hot, struggling, gasping life
Red tears, dripping from the gap, battle to survive.
Shadows take over, blind, every thing comes crashing-
But in stubborn hope, that dying thing, goes on beating.