Day 45
The cold blowing breeze of the night,
Comes again to send chills down the spine.
Relentless deep breaths,
Seem to be of no help.
Clenching on the sheets..
Eyes shut tight,
Beads of sweat on the brow.
A hair-raising whisper by the ear,
And a shrilling scream is heard again.
Into Words 
What hovel in a war zone are you occupying at night?
Just one minor note of language usage… Scream of cry? You mean tearful scream? Scream OR cry?
I know cold nights beneath insufficient covers well.
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Heyyy thank you! Correcting it right away , my guardian writingbolt.
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My muse, Nuraine.
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