She remembers too well.
Whatever that darkness was, it's gone now, and it hurts. What she sees on the other end of the forest, beyond the veil of fog in her eyes, is pure sunrise; glistening ice welcomes it gladly, from the spots where the snow is still untouched.
When the sun is up, its beams feel like daggers in her already aching soul. This light proves it — how death is not the blissful oblivion she used to dream of in her youth, but a nightmare you can't ever wake up from.
There can't be liberating tears to seal it shut; there will be no rays of morning to cut through the curtains, no warm embraces to reassure her that it's over, that reality is much brighter and full of love.
This landscape is too cold to be reborn; no living hand is there to hold her icy fingers now. She already hears them, muffled and distant — the desperate wails of her mother, the dead silence of her father, when they walk through the dry branches and find her body.
If they ever will.
She swallows a mouthful of pain, the only burning thing in this wintry dawn. She focuses and tries to dissolve — but the cold earth clings her to its chest, possessive, hefty, swarming with a world of sleeping life.
Her whole soul begs to cry. Her tears are diamonds, too frozen to be shed.
I… I am not ready yet.
Her wings won't unfold. A shroud of loving snow falls from the sky instead, protecting her fragile bones.
She has to stop fighting. Life has left her forever - there is no point in struggling for nothing. Her lips merely quiver, but her prayer is much stronger than the breath she has lost.
I can't let go… of my dream-
She is like a snowflake in a colder ground — still intact, but bound to melt soon, if not right now.
She sets to rest; but up there, before her eyelids fall, she catches a glimpse of a trembling nature, watching over her with swollen eyes. It couldn't save its daughter — now it leads her to sleep, and she is grateful.
I won't go… until-
A new shade of darkness claims her back.