Colloquialism

Sadness

The dark, black clouds roll in slowly, inching over the lively, vibrant hills.
Suddenly, everything turns cold- the air is freezing in my lungs, choking my breath.
I'm trying to speak; can you hear me?
Can you help me?
The blackness suffocates me, oppresses my every urge to scream.
I can't speak.
It's a tsunami of red that flashes like lightening across a once clear sky.
It's now anxious and mottled with red and green.
Bruised with bleeding cuts of fire, as it draws across me, it consumes me.
I can't get out.
It hurts.
It strips me to the bone, to the very core of my being, leaving me vulnerable and shivering.
Help me, I manage to whisper, extending my arm as a peace offering to the fire.
Help me.