Gone

With every last breath, her face darkens as shadows slowly shut out the chaotic fire within her seeking eyes...and it dawns on her, once again, that they are gone. All of them, each perfect and honorable, have been forever dismissed by the ghostly shadow that even now mocks her woe. Deadly still she sits, a shadow in the night. The cold does not make her shudder, nor the lashings whips of the wind, for her body is paralyzed in fear that the ghostly hands will return...that she will again be helpless as Death robs her of what matters most. She silently prays that he will take her soon, far away from the sorrow that unceasingly blankets her mind and shrouds her soul. Beyond the night sky their brave spirits pierce the dark, yearning for her eyes to but behold them...yet her gaze remains on the horizon, carefully awaiting the light that will numb her pain for the lonely hours to come. Woe, my love, for such sorrow shall only be healed with the ascent of the soul.