I am e m p t y.
The tempest had noticed his vocals, and his rhythm refused to recede, his striped banner still swaying behind him, his song reduced to only a feeble hum, before his stilts would fold, the brute's bodice reclining silently. Her pearly bodice was so delicate, a fragile flower in the wake of a blizzard, so beautiful and so ethereal. A small smile would spread upon the pearly tempest's inky lips, her tears having ceased falling. Her voice was song itself, a verse of a beautiful story of life. ?I'm terribly sorry but I don't recognize that song at all... may I ask you what it is?? Her vocals did not disappoint the summer child, not one bit. For he only knew of one verse, just as the pearly tempest in the snow had. His voice would chime in it's classic tone, young and smooth. "Well, my mother sang it to me, and she called it Beautiful Creatures. But since her death and the collapse of my home... it's become just a small fragment of my memories of her." The boy would lower his russet orange ears, yearning for his mother suddenly, tears stinging at his eyes. He blinked, holding them in tightly, despite the undying desire to be at her side. From inky lips, came a gentle humming sound to the tune of 'Glass Heart Hymn' (by Paper Route), before soft lyrics would come from inky lips. "Cut like diamonds... Set aside like an ocean's island. Or a child in a field, with nowhere to go... oh, oh, oh..." Quietly, he would stand up, memories flashing through his mind of his mother and siblings in their original home. "Memories heavy as a stone..." His voice would subdue itself, a memoir of his life replaying over and over. His mother, his siblings, their home... "It's all gone now..." His voice was but a whisper...
In my end, you are my b e g i n n i n g.
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