Silence – Temperature drops and goosebumps form,
Seemingly from nowhere a cold wind begins to blow.
Turn to run, skin clammy, footsteps strangely reverb,
Enter a dark ambience, yet ahead there is an ethereal glow.

A crowd gathers around a fallen husk,
Veins of blue cease their flow, eyes absent.
A face of pain presents itself to faces of worry,
Pushed aside by arms with a cross of red – Four men over a body bent.

Voices echo, as hands frantically set to work.
The body resembles a pin cushion, littered with needles and tourniquet ties.
The course of air and blood resumes, though forced – To no avail.
A hopeless task, still they try as the body dies.