Blind

No, it's not cold anymore. Maybe it had never actually been cold, maybe I was just imagining it. A faint silhouette to the person I was and should be now. A mask to portray feeling and empathy. A mask buried under the rubble of this empire. I fall just as so many others have. You will always think that you are better than them until you too, trip. All it takes is a pebble under your wheel to throw you off. All it takes is one wrong swallow to choke. Now, stabbing pain echoes through my very core. For I can't see my feet in front of me, the eyes taken out of my very soul haunt the air around me to make a soft breeze blow by. Thundering sounds of running approach and fade into the distance. For one moment, there's quiet in the eye of the storm. Where you're no longer awake or asleep. A moment of tranquility to the air of brisk winter, anger swimming deep so far through the veins of all of your comrades. You sink to the floor. Not to duck in cover, no, more so to succumb to your injuries. Blood bleeds red, is what I had always thought. Now it does not bleed, I assume. I would never know because I cannot see the blood, nor the surroundings. Never to see the flow of the trees picked bair again, or the summer sunset. Never to know the family around you, never to see the faces of your beloved. Once more to sit bare on the edge of a building, or maybe a cliff, possibly a pile of bones. Whatever it is, you sit, hoping that somoene will push you off. Down to the bottom. And pray that it kills you.