Cold...the sun betrays my eyes. As I stand here, waiting to leave, drawing breath sharply, while the wind is searing - piercing my skin, left cracked and decaying wounds that harden to form a callous crust. A careless thrust into an ice-laden nothingness. Before me stands the road. My anguish foreseen, whistling forth my shadow fades until I have no door. I am abolished. Anguish foreseen, the burn of my extant scars. Lying alone, those days have gone, in sight my last trial. Taking my final breaths, drawn with no hesitation, fading out into the closing stage upon this earth. On the horizon, a specter of a shadow put forth too soon to regain the life that was once. Forever to remain a specter - in time the Harvester will roam.