#vendwords

glass slipper twinkling in the twilight sky nothing left except for the hearts of dreams and flight what if a wing was clipped off? What would happen then? The only thing left for this new life is to keep going forward and backward like a clock ticking slowly and breaking losing it’s new shine in the moonlit sky dropping that slipper was worth it afterall.

           Henry stepped into the clearing when all was calm and there were no more signs of war, shouting, and gunshots. He left the trench behind and stepped onto the cold, dead surface that was covered by Henry’s friends and allies. Life and hope vanished in that part of the world and there was no way that it would ever return. Everyone was gone.            The young soldier heard a cough then walked further into the scene. The noise came from the headstrong Captain Jeffers, convinced that he would make it out alive. Both of his arms were blown off, yet he continued to live on like he was perfectly fine by maintaining his confident smile.             “Mind giving me a hand, soldier?” The Captain sarcastically questioned, either trying his best to stay mentally stable or had lost his mind and was coping with his demise with humor.                 Henry shook his head, eyes full of pity for the poor, proud man that laid on the ground like an exhausted dog. “You must move on,” Henry spoke and leaned forward to grab a hold of Jeffers’ neck, about to squeeze with all the energy he could muster.                   “Wait! Wait! No- STOP! I don’t want to die!” The terrified Captain screeched and hollered, mentally pushing Henry off of him even though he no longer had arms or hands.                      “You already have,” Henry applied pressure upon the man’s neck until there was a snap that echoed throughout the dead battlefield like a lightning strike. “No more survivors,” the young soldier stated in a monotone voice, then placed a gun to his own head.

The rain falls down in a perfectly vertical motion from the unseen and murky sky. Everything is a brown, muddy hue. The woman has a blank expression as she stares at the onlooker, one arm hugging her chest while the other is to her side. Her hat hides her eyes, leaving a mysterious shadow over half her face. She is wearing a dark brown cloak that engulfs the entire lower half of her frail body. A tree towers behind her without the presence of leaves or flowers on its branches. Nothing is alive in this painting.