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Silent Angels
Life as it isn't.
As the sunset gave up it's dying rays yellow eyes watched the day fade into the blood soaked twilight and into the shadows of the night. Time was no object here, it was as if the world faded into naught but pretty colors and the far away sounds of the river and the rustle of wind through botanical matter. It was as if something had swept everything of this place in to a transparent bubble, and those within soon forgot what it was like to be on the outside of it.

"If I asked... Would you let me stay here and fade away? If I told you this is what I wanted, would you let me stay?"

Midnight eyes reflected sadness in the bloody twilight. There was anger in grim features, and there was guilt. But louder than them all was the questions, large unruly swarms like wasps on a hot summer day growing larger by the moment.

"Why couldn't you trust me? Was everything a lie?"

There is an end but what is an end but another point. Dirges pass the hour with sympathy, both real and contrived, with regret, for what was done and what was not, with the continuance of time, that heals some wounds but forever leaves its scar.





 
 
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