Post by Phelan on Feb 3, 2005 10:43:03 GMT -5
Phelan enters the glade with a parchment and tear swollen eyes. He climbs to the highest cliff and sits with his legs dangling from the edge. He lifts the paper and a light snow begins to fall. He reads aloud.
"I sit here and winters cold icy claws grip my heart. Snow falls on what has become the ill begotten landscape of my life. I wonder if the warmth of your voice and the light of your love will return to me and thaw the freeze that has fell upon my soul. Everyday without you is like a blade plunging into my chest, a arrow through my head, the torture of my soul in hell. My love I have given you the only true things I own, my heart and myself, all you must do is take them. Snow falls about me, consuming the warmth of my heart as I wait. The daylight wanes on the brink of darkness and the warmth leaves my heart I cry out to the desolate night, where are you?"
"I sit here and winters cold icy claws grip my heart. Snow falls on what has become the ill begotten landscape of my life. I wonder if the warmth of your voice and the light of your love will return to me and thaw the freeze that has fell upon my soul. Everyday without you is like a blade plunging into my chest, a arrow through my head, the torture of my soul in hell. My love I have given you the only true things I own, my heart and myself, all you must do is take them. Snow falls about me, consuming the warmth of my heart as I wait. The daylight wanes on the brink of darkness and the warmth leaves my heart I cry out to the desolate night, where are you?"