Branches snap beneath his feet
The intensity of snow, a difficult meet
He runs swiftly with every breath
Scared to confront the idea of death
He tries to ignore the winter chill
He is the hunted; he is the kill
The icy scene begins to blind
What to these people expect to find?
He stops for a moment to decide where to go
The ice he stands upon cracks below
He falls into this liquid grave
No one to thank him for being so brave
The chilling water tears at his heart
An enemy he has known since the start
In the end, he dies alone
He carries the secret that will never be known
--Geoff Marabella
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