Mourn

She mourns a something sorrowful.
A pain on her heart, and so she sings.
Dressed like a princess of the night,
the icy dark forest in which she spreads her music.
A painful feeling held within each note, causing grief to angels,
making the fierce wind embrace her torn porcelain skin.
Her heart mourns.
Her lungs capture.
Her eyes glisten.
Her lips quiver.
Her voice reaches.
Soprano, Acapella.
Falsetto, Forte.
Harmony.
Wait….not harmony.
Where is the harmonyin this nostalgic fallen angel? Her eyes reflect
the hypnotic effect this ache has introduced to her.
Her song was once of joy, when he was a part of her life.
Before the battle, when he was alive.
Her song is now of mourn, and she sings into the morn.
The dawn, a fearful sight, showing her the light and joy of others.
So she waits until dusk; until it is black night.
For her travels always take her back to that icy forest.
Her mind and voice travel throughout its stillness.
Singing beautifully, Singing mournfully.
Singing the last lovely tune she sung to him
before he had left.
Before He was gone.
Before she was gone.
I wrote this in my writer’s craft class after watching Sarah Brightman. While others found her weird, what with the opera movements of the hands and whatnot…I was jealous. She was dressed in this beautiful Black dress, and she looked like a princess. But her song sounded sad, so of course sad princess. So I of course had to post it because- Duh! Original Christine Daae (Phantom of the opera) was the inspiration…
Enjoy,😀

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