She was motionless, curled up beneath borrowed clothes. Bitter cold somehow found its way to her pale hands, so she tucked them closer to her body.
It softly blankets the colourless soil,
Lifeless and cold after years of toil.
I can feel again.
I can see again.
I can breathe again.
The traveller awakens to the sound of the grass,
whispering tales of soldiers long passed.