Cold

In the void she could hear only the wind.Â
As it ruffled her hair she closed her eyes.
So cold it was
Like fingers of ice
That touched her very soul
She would not fall
She would never let go
Her thoughts were musicÂ
Both deadly and beautifulÂ
She followed the trance of her own mindÂ
Holding her hand out to the darknessÂ
She was fearÂ
and powerÂ
andÂ
fury andÂ
she would never let go

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Comments
Once "she" has a hold on you, Ashlyn, "she" rarely lets go.
Not until the cold confines of death and the grave have claimed you.
The key, I think, is not to allow her to get too close.
"Tap-tap-tapping at your chamber door.
Darkness there, and nothing more..."
Good write, powerfully emotive.
~Dean