The sound of a gun shot.
My side is hurting,
The noises start to drown down,
as I start to black out.

I awaken in snow,not cold,nor wet,
but warm and comfortable.
The walls are unfarmiler,
coated with soot,blackened with ash.

Two doorways beam,gracfully.
One bright other dark.
Ones that whispers death,
as the other sung melades.

I get up walking to the one that frightened.
Every morsel of my being screamed go back.
It breathed '' No may pass! ''
Ignoring I continued;it was like it was calling me.

Death is funny;it's like a present,
being presented infront of a needy child.
You never know what your going to get.
What lay beyond that door is life.
You don't what to go,
but you must.

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