Echoed Sorrow Comments

In the pale light of the autumn moon her hair danced like flowing ribbons and the leaves of the trees. The wind seemed to whistle along with her sad tune of song, it sounded as if her very soul was weeping as she sang.

Against the pale burning shadow of her cheeks a tear, solitary but strong escaped from her November eyes. As the tear left her cheek to land heavily upon the earth next to bare and bleeding feet, her song of sorrow became the woeful wail of finality, and as her song completed she turned to face the dark shadow of existence. “I’m ready” whispered she, her voice of a heroine meeting the end with understanding.
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