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They flow down her cheeks like a river, and roll off the end of her chin. She gently brushes the tears away with the back of her hand. She looks out into the graveyard that is her home; that is her life. Her head and shoulders bow as if she can no longer hold up the weight of her world any longer.
In the darkness between the trees, sitting on a broken crypt is The Dark Angel. Her once silent tears, have turned to shuddering sobs. The heartbreaking sound fills the darkened mists of the graveyard, and even the creatures of the night are silent, as The Dark Angel cries...
...she cries until there are no more tears left to shed. As the southern breeze brushes her hair, she rises from the crypt and slowly walks through the dead trees, a tiny jar grasped tightly in her small hands. She walks deep into the cemetary, past broken and forgotten headstones, to a lonely mausoleum. She takes the tiny jar, that holds the last piece of her broken heart, and hides it deep inside the small crypt. She slowly peers into the darkness of the night, and satisfied her heart is finally safe, flys away...
