The bones ached in her skin — the splintering past of moons long gone, and chilling end of suns long set.
Ghost-like threads of empty dreams and silent screams were left to hang in broken windowpanes.
Her mind lay blank and cold in shadows strewn with shattered glass, where stars shown after morbid wars.
Though still, whispers lingered and murmurs breathed the promises of long before,
when vacant souls were foreign, and famined hearts were unknown.