A seasonal chance (not yet finish)

The atmosphere was burning red in thick misting fogs, clumping together to only dye in deathly red, vibrant yellow, and overbearing orange that smeared the sky. Plump clouds puffed from seamlessly never ending abyss canvas. Clouds ripple from internal chaos, stirring fire trails smoothly along the fiery background. Winds feed the air with currents that pushes along the face of mine; the autumn breeze smelled of sweet death. Praised shine from a faintly orange yellow sun, a Ra for life and Lokie for breathers too. Turning a face towards the roaring seas, to have salty sweet relief turning in the nostrils of a child. The boy may have been turning on the cusp of six falls.

Timid steps toward the ledge of a cliff that calls in crashing water upon the rocky cliff down bellow… twisting seas compare to a raging wars.
Men of build, war breeding in their veins. With arms at hands, blades prepare for meat from others flesh. Bleeding the enemies’ blood from their very pores, pulsating through the very heart. Gallant horsed men stampede in dagger rock…

Passing through his hair, the air ran through massive highways, currents that rushed wild. As the ocean enlarged to his view, the mind cried to paper liquid, layering to a mess of confetti. Packing itself to a neat two dimensional playing card the brain eased itself from the dark and gloomy cave that was the boy skull. Rolling in a spiral that curved through the eye of falling soul, the body persisted down to water with a definite crash while the card unraveled and floated in the seas of current that wavered in the sky. AS the body fell the mind separated in a disconnected web from supporting branches. The spider observes the silky home disappear in a tangle confusion. Single strands catch lost friends, first a leaf that it too had grown to old and lost it's home. But at last the friend was joined with another wanderer, a ...
a boy, sitting on the thin strand at complete comfort. Awaiting what to come as down below him was a shapely card that was once his own, Now the brain belongs to the cosmos of the world, A earthly electricity that attract unfathomable phenomenons.

As this spiritual figure to the place of the far but well off dead child, the once was body trembled down to the menacing waters the brain saw another...
Upon the moment the body submerged under frigid waters the view was anew. Falling from the nearly frozen lake the boy collided to inches of thick powdered snow.
A pillow at first, but wet and cold were the cushions properties. Powdered flakes of frozen pain rained down on his head. The body of the boy used whatever arm strength he had left to push himself up. He could hear his arms crack and pop from the moisture affecting his joints. With his first step he fell and slid back to the ground…
The ground did not break his fall but only let him fall even further down, sliding through inversed ice tunnel deeper and deeper into this ice land’s core. The ice under him began to burn his skin frozen, cutting off the circulation to his body. His hands too started to burn from the ice. His mind was on fire while his body was getting colder and colder. Looking around the crystallized blue beauty of the ice dome of a tunnel… his mind was filling with concern and doubt of ever being free again.

Eventually all things do come to an end, just as did this; a bright light of white burst to his eyes, the eyes of the dying body. Closer he came the more his mind became ablaze and the pain become more unbearable. At last the end was near and past, falling back upon the snow bed, this time he swore he felt his arms rip apart and flung in two different directions. He lay there, just laid in the wallowing agony, dripping into it. Allowing the blunt ground to bash him over and over, as he cried in the snow, icicles grew from the ground to his eyes.
The spider web so happen to drift by a laying body being covered in the snow…floats on by currents of shifting flakes that kept on going and going without a hesitation or sign of halting. One looked down on the other, realizing he was no longer him. But felt pity.
As he goes he looks away, he notices the trees around; they still hold green leaves that beg for sun. Plead for majesty to open her crown and rush with open mothering arms.