Spectations

A study, of words, in crimson, sometimes blue, rarely yellow.

Red

There were echoing screams in her head as she ran; ran past the houses, past the fences, past the trees, into the perfect round clearing, lit by the moon, surrounded in a perfect circle with solemn blood-red roses, & in the middle of the clearing, she kneeled, & cried out to the Heavens, “Why?”. She screamed until there was no more air in her lungs, she screamed until she was sure the Heavens had heard her.

 & a breeze blew, soft & gentle, cool as the moonlight shining on her skin, & she knew then Heaven wasn’t alone in hearing her cries. & without even turning around, she knew he had come for her. & without a question, she gave her soul away.

 & that night, the Heavens wept.

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