IRC-Galleria

As I stood there, watching down to my broken lover,
a sorrow like no other filled my heart, making the pain grow.
His ebony hair was tangeled and sticky with his blood, the blood I had spilled.
But, he was my doll, my toy, after all; it was his given duty - his right - to live, and to die, for me and only because of me.
Still the grief that lingered after he had died - still smiling like he always used to - struck me like a mountain crashing over me.
I sighed and brushed my silvery bangs away from my eyes averting my gaze from the dead boy and looked to the east.
Sun was soon rising and it meant I had to leave to my dead slumber.
Glancing once again to the corpse I walk away, and a single tear fought its way down on my cheek, even though I was far too deep in my sinful agony to ever notice it.
The doll is dead.



( jatkoa "A Doll's Love" -pätkälleni :) )