There's a cold wind blowing softly through a narrow, dark ravine.
A sound is heard, soft and everywhere, like the rustle of silk.
It echoes from every dismal reaching corner of the abyss,
and whispers of the aching loneliness within the crevasse.
A cold, blue-white light transcends an aura of weird lifelessness
to the jaged rocks of the cleft walls.
There appears a soul within all of this,
like a thin frail mist,
congealing within its center -
a tiny translucent gray cloud...
