Hooded, cloaked in shadow, tall and proud and higher than the cold steel of swirling clouds and the snow that brings winter back yet again...I hold a pale hand before my gaze open full before the mirror. I meet my eyes in the reflection and time stands still. I ask why, and think I know the answer.
I close it into a fist and do you know what I said? Nothing is better than this.
When the hourglass is empty I'm ashes in the wind.