The Tin Man.
So the fields of white and warmth, turned cold and gray in the rain. Where the wake of all that you've been fighting back, falls to pieces. The body parts fail you, and you cant move. You just stand, joints frozen. Staring over the fields you've found yourself in. The world goes on, without you... And all the after thoughts, after words, after everything that has happened. You are only left, the rusty tin man in a forest growing around you. Soon the sun is blotted by the trees, and vines where you stand... And you stand as the statue of lost causes. Left behind as a reminder of all that could have been.