Grievance Darkness gathered there, beneath the bags of her eyes, peering towards the soul, gaping redemption at the bleak stars, hissing confusion at open eyes.

Night was broken, chained by melancholy, charcoal, and rain. The feats of her informants were only a graceful armatage to her soul. She prospered in this bleakness, smiling in its weeping shadow's corners. Holding tightly the beloved malice that brought her heart to darkness.

When she arose it was like an eclipse, and when she bent, it was if night had settled in, flushing out the last of the light. But her spires kept twisting, and sometimes the moon peers through her eyes, glimmering like piers of fire, and in there, i can see the sun, gleaming hopeful rays that oneday freedom could be an opportunity.

But, freedom was owned still by hope. And glances at the cavern interior of the spire swore that the inside was more devasting than within. Lasting impressions of memory flashing before my eyes, were my only sense of direction in her bleak tomb, in which she threw Eclipses into the Darkness.
what's it to you?
who go