You see also, is not it? These shifting shadows in darkness, these whispers of yesteryear, these voices in addition to tombs. It is in the steppes glazed, that you will back their inanimate faces, their beady eyes piercing you look, although there are no souls in sight, you contemplate in what you both think if real, and yet impossible to believe, this multitude of corpses littering the ground frozen, you walk in full desperation on the trail, in the nightmare you see these bodies this multiply around you. The eyes that freeze on you now have an accusatory air of contempt. The bodies are piling up, they gather slowly to form a palpable mass. You Frisian, you don’t dare return you, you feel the embrace of this human tide, the bones now form a tornado and come hit you, you feel those hands, these arms, these legs, grab you, hug you, you can no longer breathe, the stench of death you choking, buried under the corpses you shoots this last cry of rage, the last breath of life that last tear of hope, panicked you tents you make their way, to dig a tunnel through pieces of flesh rotting. The end is approaching, you continue to move towards the unknown, towards this yellowish glow that blind you off, you know that you can not return you, you too have seen, it is more worth the penalty.