On the anniversary of Her death, you lay on the lush knoll staring up at the sky – Your sky. You see lucid greens, surrounding you like the rocking waves of vast oceans; you observe majestic golds shimmering with the bond you share together; and you feel the intense reds in the pit of your chest-the passion in your core.
As it sets, the small globe of fire stares back at you, wishing it were closer: willing you to chase it. You feel your breath rising to give chase as the sky beckons you by name.
Hope, come back.
You clutch at the bowing grass by your sides; as if that would ground you from the bedazzling threads of light drawling you in. Laced with these glimmering threads, were swirling pockets of twilight – just dark enough to offset the scintillating reign of colors over an immaculately dark earth.
This earth where you were willingly bound.
Your sighing sun sets behind a sad facade of carefree gaiety, knowing you chose to be here with Her-in all her finiteness-than in the sky: where every Hope should be

View this story's 7 comments.