Assassinated beauty. The death of innocence in the time it takes to say your name. Alison. A lover broken by the hands of another. Not a devil or a beast, just some guy afraid of the light in your shining eyes. A portrait of life in a captured still. Darkness always lurking. The big empty never far away. It will get us in the end, but sometimes the end can’t wait. Sometimes there’s not enough time in the day to stop and tell the ones you love just how much they mean to you. That four letter word, so ugly on the lips of so many, yet when delivered with honesty, there’s not a single thing that comes close. In the lonely hours when there’s only the great below, all it takes is a memory to erase the horrors of what followed. Pain is transitory, but love lasts a lifetime. The horrors of man can snuff you out, but to exist with dignity is the greatest triumph of all. To stand up against the lowly ones consumed by mirrors. To breathe with a smile on your face knowing this is it. That death lasts forever. Through the tears that fall, to be graceful is the greatest gift. The sickness of man can never win. It will always fail in the face of those moments of joy. Suffering can last so long, but it holds nothing to a smile, to the merest flash of milk white teeth on a warm summers day. Those gentle nuances of two lovers lost in the magic of chemistry. The wind in your hair and the taste of what it means to be sincere while the world burns regardless. To be small. To be humble. The weight of a life isn’t to be measured in gold but in kindness. In the feelings that bubble within, and in empathy. Shadows consume, they consist of absence. An absence of beauty. An absence of soul. Alison. As the breeze takes you home, the world grows dim, and just like so many others, it grows emptier without. Such a desolate wasteland this can be. Such a prison for the walking dead.

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