~*~ The world has changed.

I can feel it in the water. I can feel it in the earth. I can smell it in the air.

Much that once was, is lost. For none now live, who remember... ~*~

Dragon by Golden Days ~*~ Cold... So cold.

I can feel it my skin, in my bones, in my mind. I have no warmth.

"You are dead," a voice whispers. "Dead, you can never come back." Yet I have heard that voice since the dawn of time, and here I am still, surrounded by whiteness.

White.

Cold.

"Dead."

I cannot be dead, my mind argues. Death is peace of mind, and I am not peaceful here. "Dead," the voice insists. "Dead."

No, I shout into the emptiness. But even as I shout, I have not made a sound.

"Dead."

I do not want to be dead, I murmer softly. I want to live. To live, to be alive.

The voice does not respond, and I know I have not been heard.

Dead. ~*~