Ventings of the dying soul
She sighs in shallow contempt, her mind now lying in waste in the mouths of the hell-hounds as she scurried across the desertedly plains of sickening loneliness. Her mind a waste land in its self right. The winds of the damned blowing in her face as she braved on into the infinite night. Her soul crying out for release, and for the one thing that once sated her.......Anguish now thou seeps into her bones and wake. No longer is the lord for her soul to take. No, now her soul is caged in and under lock and key, no longer sure of its place in the world that goes round slowly without her in its wake. She has been casted from the rifts of time, unsettled from the patterns of innocence and grace. Now just a phantom in the loss, without a soul, and damned of mind. The rements of her body grumbling to ash as her tears trek to dust down her bloodied cheekbones now creased with sorrow to thou bones. Her skin papery thin and pale of light and lushness. Hair loose and free of life and color. Rolling down her shoulders in cascading waves of drying decay. No.....everything is gone now of the human face. Now stands the heart of a beast, staring into the void of hatred that now consumes that of the human race and kind. Now her body lies in torment , tattered and bruised, transformed into the very being of her gruelish nightmares. Claws scraping the ground with cresending notes of urgency. Streaked raw red with dried blood and fur matted with soulless hate. No more lays forth the form of a girl. No, what lay forth now stands a beast of rightful greed. Seeking far into the minds of the man, searching for the answer and causing of her down-falling pain. Her sorrows cascading down in drifting chilling rain of hopelessness. However she stands there. Whether live or dead. She stands there. Waiting. For the solemn promise of eventual release of her torment and more.
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