mushroomprince
There is nothing surrounding him anymore, nothing of the walls which used to cage him in. They have fallen away, as if only mere sheets of paper, torn away by the wind. He stands and faces the sky, letting time pass as it may. Letting his fate finally catch him, the one he'd been running from so long.
She begins the long journey from green meadows to red plains, and knows she must never turn back. What ends she wishes to reach are unknown.
She claims she used to be beautiful, with hair as flaxen as pale gold, with skin as white as soft dove's down and a heart as pure as gold. She claims when she was young, she held the hearts of every man in the palms of her hands, their fates twined as a delicate red string around her pinkie finger. Yet what does it matter? What is she now?
Despire the beauty of this world, it is ugly. Despite all the kind words spoken, the soft thoughts whispered and the gentle hum that passes through us all, evil lurks in the corners of our hearts. It is there, waiting, waiting to consume us all.
Yet despite this we all continue living. Despite the hatred in our hearts, the corruption in our souls, there is still a desire in us to breathe in the light day after day, to live.
They stood together at the edge of the cliff, fingers intertwined and eyes closed. They breathed in through their nostrils, deeply, and inhaled the scent of the sun with their heads tilted back.