The Landscape of My Soul

I am Queen of the mountain.

I run in the forest, swift and silent. I am covered in warm pelts.

The snow is falling, slow and gentle.

It’s cold and I want to die.

There is warmth, just out of my grasp, I run harder, faster. I can never seem to reach the warmth that lies outside of me.

Desolate.

There is a blizzard on the mountain side, I stumble and twist my ankle.

I lay in the snow, sweat chilling, the heat of my body escaping.

The heat evaporates off my skin, taking pieces of my soul with it until my breaths come shallow. I lay in wait.

This is the landscape of my soul.

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